The Cerebral Inducement Deferral
by RJ1013
Summary: A series of stand-alone stories for season 10. Chapter 8, post-ep for 10.19, "The Collaboration Fluctuation": Now that Amy has begun working with Sheldon, she fears that he might become overwhelmed by the amount of time they spend together.
1. Chapter 1: Post-1008

Title: The Cerebral Inducement Deferral

Author: RJ1013

Summary: It has been almost a year, and Sheldon and Amy are circling one another, neither one quite sure of how to get where they both want to be. Starting after 10.08, "The Brain Bowl Incubation," this is a series of post episode stories to fill in some of the gaps of season 10. Each chapter should be able to stand on its own, but they also go together as parts of a larger story. My intent is to avoid conflicting with anything that we see on screen, but I'm not prescient, so we'll have to wait and see if that works out.

Rating: T. I don't think we quite cross the line into M territory here, but we sure do snuggle right up close to it and get handsy.

* * *

Chapter 1: Post ep for 10.08, "The Brain Bowl Incubation". Amy and Sheldon need to get through the night, and her 36 hours are still ticking...

A tangentially relevant factoid: For those unaware, the eggplant emoji, and by extension eggplant itself, is considered by many to have a certain phallic, sexual connotation these days.

—-

* * *

I.

* * *

Once Amy's knees have regained enough strength to support her body in an upright fashion, she wobbles unsteadily across the hall. A few rose petals cling to her orthopedic shoes as she follows the red path to 4B, and she wastes no time making her way inside the apartment in search of a temporary reprieve.

What the hell, Sheldon?

He will follow her over here soon enough, of that much she is certain. Amy is decidedly less certain about what she's going to do once he arrives. She has no desire to have a child at this time, but she sure does desire Sheldon himself. It feels like she's been waiting forever for him to pursue the sequel to last year's initial coital adventure. Correcting her own hyperbole, she reminds herself that in truth it has only been 329 days since she last got the chance to feel him moving inside of her. She looks down at her watch. Make that 7893 hours. Or 473,580 minutes.

Amy shakes her head, hoping to shake off her mind's stupid wanderings. Thinking about that night last year is the last thing she ought to be doing right now. Cleaning the kitchen seems like an innocuous enough distraction, but once she catches sight of Sheldon's glass of brandy and a plate of unopened oysters on ice, she wonders if even that mundane task might be too much for her overtaxed nerves. Frustrated, Amy takes a sip of Sheldon's alcohol in the hopes that it might have a calming effect. It burns as it goes down the back of her throat, and she can feel the flush of heat growing throughout her entire body. Dammit. Drinking can't be a good idea right now either.

It suddenly occurs to her that there is no escape. They live here together, and it's not like she's going to feel less randy once she heads into their bedroom where she will sleep cuddled up next to him for hours on end. Amy glances at the kitchen countertop where the plate of unopened oysters mocks her from its bed of ice. She plucks out the shells one by one and places them into a container for storage, trying to put a sense of normalcy and order back into her day. It doesn't work. By the time she is left with a plate full of nothing but ice, she finds herself giving serious consideration to dumping that heap of cubes straight down her underpants.

—-

* * *

II.

* * *

Sheldon wants to know if they are aroused. Penny doesn't even need to do so much as glance at Leonard to know that the answer for both of them is a resounding 'hell no'. She doesn't say it out loud, though, figuring that Sheldon doesn't really care what they think anyway.

His shoulders begin to slump, and it's like watching the remaining hot air of his male ego deflate right in front of her. Oh well. At least he has stopped dancing. Penny's not sure if she could've contained her laughter for even one more second if he hadn't.

"Do you think it's too soon?" Sheldon asks.

Leonard looks at her, his forehead wrinkled in confusion, but she doesn't have the slightest clue what the hell he's talking about either. She takes a guess. "Too soon for that dance?"

"It's always going to be too soon for that dance," Leonard adds.

"We had planned on one full year, and it has only been 329 days since Amy's birthday. That's a good 90.14% of a calendar year, but perhaps she still isn't ready."

There's no way to hold back a snort at the ridiculousness of Sheldon's assumption. Penny pinches the bridge of her nose to prevent her snort from becoming a full-fledged chortle. "Um, seriously? She's not rejecting the coitus. It's the having a baby part that she's not ready for. She told you that."

His posture straightens out as his ego puffs back up with arrogance. "Yes, but I explained that our progeny would be exceptional, and she's expressed prior interest in procreating with me someday on a number of occasions. That can't be it."

Leonard points out the obvious. "Yeah, the key word there is 'someday'. That doesn't mean today."

"Be that as it may, today just so happens to be the right time in Mother Nature's book, and by following conventional, seduction-related wisdom, Amy ought to have been convinced and succumbed to my charms by now. No, I think this reproductive business is some kind of excuse on her part. There must be another reason behind her rejection."

"Conventional, seduction-related wisdom?" Leonard asks. "Is that what we have been witnessing?"

Sometimes there is simply no reasoning with Sheldon's particular brand of crazy. Penny shrugs. "Well, there you go. It's no wonder your attempts didn't work. There's nothing conventional about either Amy or you. There's no reason to think that this… seduction—or whatever the hell you want to call it—should work on an individual as... unique as our little Amy."

Sheldon looks frustrated. "Did you know that she made me sit through an entire season of _Mad Men_ on Netflix last week?" He gestures down at his unusual attire. "This look always made the ladies fall into bed with Don Draper. I don't see how she could resist, and when you add in the rose petals, the dance, and the blatant display of my hindquarters at the lab, I'm at a loss as to what could be wrong."

Curious but not stupid, she isn't going to ask about his apparent ass presentation. Leonard clears his throat. "If you suspect that there is a reason other than not wanting a baby, maybe you should consider testing your theory. Remove the baby variable from the equation. Instead of rose petals and hair gel, try propositioning her while wielding some prophylactics."

Tapping his chin with his index finger, Sheldon mumbles, "Interesting."

There's nothing quite like watching a couple of geniuses disregarding the simple truths in life. Penny sighs. "Or, you know, you could try the common sense wisdom of sitting down and freaking talking to her like a normal human being."

Sheldon's eyes only flit to hers for a moment before he looks back at Leonard. "I'm going to need a ride to the drug store."

—

* * *

III.

* * *

Even cleaning the kitchen and vacuuming up the rose petals isn't enough to assuage Amy's internal ardor. It makes her feel thankful that Sheldon has not yet returned to their apartment. Her thoughts continue to swirl, and she supposes that she will need to come up with some kind of strategy to put him off for the evening. Her sweet baboo is tenacious when he latches onto an idea, and she has no reason to think that he will give up on this baby plan while her thirty-six hour fertility window is still wide open.

Then again, maybe Leonard and Penny will manage to talk some sense into him. The thought makes her frown. While it is true that she is not ready to be a mother anytime soon, she can't deny the truth to herself, the truth that she has always wanted Sheldon to pursue her in such a straightforward manner. She has been enjoying his attentions in spite of herself.

Of course, none of the past day is a genuine representation of the man she knows him to be, and that reality is the one thing that has allowed her to resist his persuasive efforts. Their relationship is and always has been a relationship of the mind above all else. Their bodies have come along for the ride more and more over time, but it's still nothing like Sheldon's behavior today. If he were to try to seduce her for real, with no motive beyond the pleasure of the act itself, she feels certain that he would begin by going straight after her mind.

It first became clear to her during their one night of coital intimacy. Prior to that, she had always wondered what Sheldon's 'deal' was and just what desire entailed for him. She'd had her suspicions, of course, and was pleasantly surprised to find most of her hypotheses to be so spot on.

While many people talk about wanting to be loved and desired for their mind, Sheldon actually lives it with her. He was physically attentive in every way necessary that night, but the thing that had truly gotten his motor running was talking to her during the act. In their shared, innocent naivety, he had asked her many questions. For every 'why?' that he had uttered, she proceeded to explain in wordy scientific detail while also demonstrating with explicit physical actions. Proving herself right over and over again while he shook and shivered against her body turned out to be even more satisfying than she could've imagined. It was a thorough introduction to the neuroscience of sex, and the two of them, as ever, turned out to be quick learners.

The result was profound in ways that Amy had not anticipated. By the time Sheldon began to penetrate her body, he was so much a part of her mind that she felt like his brain was somehow wedging its way into her cranium at the same time, their neurons melding together much like their neural network experiment. It was an intimacy far beyond the crude mechanics of the act itself.

When they do attempt to conceive someday, she suspects that it will be an experience akin to their first time, not some hasty, primitive act where she is being bent over a table in her lab. Not that that doesn't have an allure all its own…

Amy wipes her hand over her sweaty face and takes a deep, steadying breath. It's time to think about something else—anything else. She makes her way into the bathroom, taking her nightgown and robe with her. It doesn't seem like a good idea to get dressed in their bedroom, not if Sheldon might be home by the time she gets out of the shower.

She sets the water temperature to be colder than normal, but it still isn't enough to cool down her thoughts. Even though it seems unlikely that Sheldon would care, she decides to leave the day's stubble on her legs. She has already picked out her oldest, most wrinkled nightgown to complete the look.

It's a difficult puzzle to solve. Leg stubble, uncombed hair, and sloppy clothes might make her less physically appealing, but she suspects that won't matter much to a man who is desirous of her mind more than any other part of her.

She wonders if she can somehow make her brain unappealing. If there's one person she is sure does nothing to stimulate Sheldon's intellectual passions, it's Penny. Perhaps she could engage him in some of Penny's gossipy jibber-jabber. But Amy's no expert on Brangelina, and she doesn't think that she could name all of the Kardashians if her life depended on it. Besides, Sheldon wouldn't fall for an attempt at feigned idiocy anyway, not if such an attempt is coming from her.

While she exfoliates with her loofah, she continues to ponder her predicament. There's something perverse about trying to avoid an act that she desperately wants to experience with him again. It's even more odd considering that she has so often been the one trying to restrain herself from seducing him.

Amy climbs out of the shower and towels off. With the water no longer running, she can hear the faint sounds of Sheldon moving around in the other room. At the sink, she splashes some cool water on her overheated face and then opts to leave her hair a mess. She dons her ugly old nightgown like armor, but she can't stuff her previous train of thought away.

It's true. She does possess the power to seduce him. She's been certain of it for some time now. Earlier this year, the realization had swept over her, and she's only grown more confident of it over time.

It had happened in the weirdest way. While updating some software on her laptop, Amy had made a joke to Sheldon about not reading the software licensing agreement. Initially aghast, Sheldon plopped himself down close to her and proceeded to take great pleasure in explaining that such an agreement is a form of a contract. He then expounded at length about the intricacies and importance of contracts in their many forms. As always, Amy asked relevant questions, and throughout his explanations, she watched as a familiar gleam of enthusiasm appeared in his eyes. In the instant after he had finished speaking, they made out on the couch in a passionate fashion that belied the dull conversation that preceded it.

After their first experience with coitus, Amy had assumed that the sexual nature of their conversation had been a factor in piquing Sheldon's interest, but as it has turned out, he is not so picky. Philosophical history, obscure literature, unusual factoids, and science in any form have all been enough to get him going at various times. And then there's vexillology, which she has found quite consistent at being able to hoist up Sheldon's flagpole. Heck, one time it was an unusually stimulating discussion about the cultivation of eggplant in Pakistan that did him in.

There have been times when they disagree, of course, and their conversations might become more like a debate, but that never seems to dampen his enthusiasm either. If anything, intellectually butting heads with her has tended to result in make out sessions that are even more passionate than ever.

It continues to strike her as a little odd, but she supposes everyone is different in what turns them on. If intellectual engagement with her is what does it for Sheldon, then so be it. Besides, she loves his mind every bit as much as he does hers, and nothing gets her hot and bothered quite like a lengthy soliloquy from her man.

Still, she refuses to push him beyond the point of making out. If she were to make a move in those moments, she doesn't think for one second that he would reject her. Nevertheless, after so many years together, Amy has come to accept that Sheldon only moves forward with her when he is ready. Living together ended up happening so naturally and comfortably because it was the right time for him as well as for her. Any kind of regular coitus is likely to commence in the same way. It will happen when it is meant to, and not one moment sooner.

Amy frowns at herself in the mirror. That moment cannot be tonight.

She isn't sure what level of self-awareness Sheldon even has right now when it comes to physical intimacy. There is a definite sincerity to his interest in creating a child with her, but she hopes that his pants-dropping inclinations go beyond that particular motivation. She supposes that time will tell. Someday he will be able to accept these things about himself. Taking a deep breath, Amy strengthens her resolve to be patient. His denial may be strong, but she has always found him to be worth the wait.

When she swings open the bathroom door, she spots Sheldon right away. He stands near the window, dressed in a pair of his everyday plaid pajamas, his presence making the whole bedroom smell faintly of talcum powder. He must've cleaned the goop out of his hair at Leonard and Penny's apartment, because it looks soft and fluffy, beckoning her to run her hands through it. She has to steady herself against the doorframe and swallow down the lump that forms in her throat. He is far more sexy and attractive to her in this instant than he has been all day.

—

* * *

IV.

* * *

With Amy's glasses off due to her shower, Sheldon can see exactly how wide her eyes get when she stares at him. A thin bit of white shows all the way around her irises, and her mouth is agape in a wide, circular 'o' shape to match. Within seconds, however, she shuts her mouth and begins to blink. She clears her throat and snatches her glasses from off the bedside table. Once she has done so, she then makes her way across the room and leaves without saying so much as a single word to him. That doesn't seem promising.

He follows her nonetheless. In the kitchen he spots her rummaging through the freezer. She retrieves an ice-encrusted cardboard box, something that must've been leftover from when Penny used to live here.

"What are you doing?" he asks.

Amy doesn't look at him while she answers, "Just making a little bedtime snack."

It appears to be some kind of garlic toast. Sheldon cringes at the thought of a garlic-scented Amy breathing on his pillow tonight. Doesn't she know that such a thing can get a person relegated to the couch? This seems like awfully peculiar behavior from her.

"You're hungry for something?"

His simple question seems to fluster her, and Amy bobbles the box in her hands, dropping it onto the floor. Stepping up close to her, he reaches down and picks it up. The frosty box chills his fingers, but it doesn't seem to be having the same effect when he hands it to Amy. Her cheeks are flushed a bright shade of pink.

"You never eat this close to bedtime," he points out. "Metabolism, insulin response, satiety, and the comfort of a regular circadian rhythm being your primary reasons, as I recall."

"Actually, recent research shows that a person's nighttime basal metabolic rate averages the same as it does during the day. Eating before bed can improve sleep quality and won't interfere with weight loss, depending on an individual's specific circumstances and the food in question. Of course, gastrointestinal distress, improper uptake of nutrients due to inferior digestion, and personal preference are still significant issues to consider."

Sheldon tilts his head and feels his heart speed up, pleased to hear her acting more like herself. He taps the back of her hand that holds the box. "I suspect that this ancient garlic bread from Penny's old hoard of junk food might tip the scales towards acid reflux and generalized unpleasantness. I'm sure we can find you something more satisfying."

Amy's voice sounds oddly squeaky when she says, "Um, yeah. Maybe I should put together a salad or something." She steps back from him and opens the fridge. Bending over, she checks the contents of the vegetable crisper bin. "We must have some onions in here somewhere…"

He leans up and over her from behind to have a look. The warmth of her posterior is more than enough to eclipse the bit of chill from the fridge. "There's definitely some eggplant down here that you could have," he suggests.

For some mysterious reason, his words cause Amy to pop right up, her body brushing against his as she straightens her posture, and the movement is so abrupt that he has to step back, lest she slam her head up into his chin. Without hesitation, she closes the refrigerator door and scampers across the living room. Perhaps she's not so hungry after all.

"Yeah, I think maybe I'll just hold out until morning," she confirms, sounding out of breath from her very short walk.

Sheldon raises an eyebrow and holds his empty hands out to his sides. "Are you sure? You can't think of anything that you'd like to have?"

She looks at him from head to toe, opening and closing her mouth. "It's okay," she replies, her voice cracking as she speaks. "I—I'm fine. I can wait." Her eyes begin to dart around the room, but she somehow avoids making any further eye contact with him. How odd.

As he walks over to her, she suddenly starts to pop her knuckles. One by one there's that awful noise, and Sheldon recoils at each and every crack. That's something he has never seen her do before. She knows that he considers that to be as obnoxious of an act as whistling. It makes him wonder if it's too late to whip up a Living Together Agreement for her to sign. Amy doesn't quite share his love of contracts, but he feels confident that she would do it with him if he asked her to. If he's careful with his phrasing, he thinks he could put together a number of clauses that would be mutually enjoyable for the both of them.

Then again, they've been doing fine without a Relationship Agreement, and he can hold out until they get around to the delightful legal confines of matrimony. His initial research has shown that there are 1,138 federal statutory provisions in which marital status has relevance. And that doesn't even begin to get into any state specific legalese!

It'll take a while to go through all of those details with Amy when the time comes. Sheldon fans his face. Maybe he ought to check the thermostat. She's been looking a bit warm ever since he got home, and now he's feeling it too.

"So, how about those Cubs?" Amy says as she sits down on the couch. "I heard that it's been a long time since they last won the, um, World Championship thingy."

Since when does she follow sports in any way? Sheldon takes a seat near her on the couch and tries to think of a response. Conversing with Amy is always one of the highlights of his day, so he supposes she's got something interesting to say about this, even if it's a subject that's far from their norm. He offers up the little bit that he knows.

"It has been over a century since their previous title, I believe. Apparently it was also quite the comeback story. You know, it used to puzzle me as to why grown men would be so eager to play with their bats and balls, to run around the bases and slide into home. It always seemed like such a messy business. But there are certain instances where I have come to see a sort of appeal to it."

Amy looks at him askance. She then shakes her head and mumbles something about bedtime.

That sounds good to him too.

—-

* * *

V.

* * *

After Sheldon has flushed, brushed, flossed, and exfoliated, he sits on the bed and waits for Amy to finish her own set of nightly ablutions. As he picks at a loose string on his pillowcase, he ponders what sleeping in bed with her will be like after today's seduction-related failures. He has been doing his best to get things back to normal, having come to accept that traditional methods of seduction aren't so effective for superior beings such as himself and Amy.

The simple truth is that he isn't sure what it would take to win her over. As such, Sheldon supposes he has no real choice but to wait for her to let him know when she is ready. While she took coitus off the table a few weeks ago, she also clarified that they would revisit the subject in time. After his trip to purchase condoms, he figures he is now as prepared as he will need to be for whenever that time comes.

Amy is being slow in the bathroom, and Sheldon finds himself once again pondering their experiment. There are still more tests to be done on their neural network, and he looks forward to continued stellar results in the future. Their combined DNA truly is remarkable.

His happy musings quickly fade when Amy emerges from the bathroom. He has had a vague suspicion all night, but it all coalesces in his mind when he sees her disheveled hair. She never combed it after her earlier shower, and she still hasn't done so, even though she would've been standing in front of a mirror while using the sink. Something is wrong.

His Amy might not go through the ridiculous, unnecessary primping and preening that someone like Penny does, but she does take care of herself, and she is never a slob. If anything, he would describe her as meticulous. As she steps closer to him, her messy hair stands out like a beacon of warning.

She sits on the very edge of the bed and then proceeds to lie down, curling up under the sheets facing away from him. When she is done wiggling, there is a big space left between the two of them in the center of their tiny bed. The lack of a good night kiss bothers him more than he'd care to admit.

It seems to him like she doesn't want to talk about whatever is wrong, but maybe she would at least appreciate a comforting cuddle. Sheldon slides himself across the gap and turns to hug Amy's back like she so often does to him. Her unkempt hair is distracting him, so he reaches up and finger-combs the part of her head that he can reach, taking care to be gentle and avoid pulling on any tangles. Since her humming rendition of _2001: A Space Odyssey_ soothed him not too long ago, he figures he should attempt something similar. He opts for the theme song to _Little House on the Prairie._

At first she responds to his attentions by shifting her body back towards his. Unfortunately, a moment or two later her entire body jerks away. Her head shoots up, and she hops out of the bed entirely, leaving her standing next to it with her chest heaving up and down. Sheldon doesn't need to be good at reading body language to know that she has not been soothed.

"What the hell, Sheldon? This is not the right time for us to have a child together!"

He's not sure what she's getting at, but apparently he was wrong. She does want to talk. "We may not be experts at sexual intimacy, but don't you think that conceiving a child together would require fewer items of attire?"

Her eyebrows wrinkle up, an expression that always confuses him. "Please stop trying to seduce me."

Her words do not make things any clearer. Sometimes it feels like she is speaking a different language or perhaps speaking to him from some alternate dimension altogether. He sits up against the headboard, deciding that there's only one response to give her anyway. "I stopped trying to seduce you after the flamenco dance. Somehow you were immune to that, and now I'm all out of ideas."

"Oh, come on! You've been doing it all evening! Trying to help me 'satisfy' my hunger, offering me your 'eggplant', asking if I see anything I'd like, talking about bats and balls and sliding into home—and now you're rubbing up next to me with a little serenade, of all things."

"I have no idea what you're talking about. If anyone's been acting like a weirdo this evening, it's you. Regardless of that, you have made it clear that you aren't ready for us to progress in this manner at this time. And I'm not going to push you about it anymore."

She exhales a large breath. It smells minty fresh, making Sheldon thankful once again that she didn't opt for that garlic bread. He hopes that her big sigh is a sign that her anger is dissipating.

Her next words are far less cranky, and far more logical and level-headed. Well, not literally level-headed. Half of her hair is still sticking up. "We've only just begun to figure out how to live together, and you know as well as I do that you have a difficult time with change. Maybe after we both feel settled, after we both see what it's like for Howard and Bernadette, maybe then we can make a more informed decision about whether that's something we want. But I'm not willing to gamble with the stability of our relationship, and I'm not willing to treat a child of ours like some impromptu experiment."

That's interesting. Perhaps her earlier rejections really were about the procreational considerations as opposed to an excuse masking some other issue. It gives him a lot to think about.

He nods. "You make valid points. Consider this my official agreement that Howard and Bernadette's baby shall serve as a trial run."

"That's not quite what I meant."

He shrugs and slides over, patting her side of the bed in invitation. Amy takes him up on it, this time lying on her side to face him. Her position finally gives him the opportunity that he's been waiting for. He reaches for her head, starting to straighten out the tangled right side of her hair with his fingertips. There, now she's level-headed. It's not perfect, but it's a big improvement. Amy smiles at him while he does it, the biggest improvement of all.

"You know, you ought to consider working on your cultural appreciation of flamenco," he lectures when he has finished. "Far beyond the dance itself, or _baile_ , flamenco encompasses an entire style of musical art. Having Spanish origins, it involves guitar playing, also known as _toque_ , singing, which is _cante_ , and vocalizations called _jaleo_. The clapping of the hands is _palmas,_ and finger snapping is referred to as _pitos._ The word 'flamenco' itself is probably a derivation of fire, hence the passionate, fiery nature of the various stylings, or _Palos_. There is a distinctive structure, harmony, rhythm, and melody to flamenco. Would you like me to hum you a sample tune?"

Amy stares at him with rapt attention, her half-closed eyes sparing only the occasional blink. He can see how the dark circles of her pupils have dilated to cover most of the color of her irises. That's unusual considering that the room is still bright from their bedside table lamps. Her attention shifts away from his eyes down to his mouth, and she licks her lips, leaning her pink-tinged face even closer to his.

"Sheldon," she whispers. "You're doing it again with the seduction."

"I am?" he squeaks. While he always relishes the opportunity to teach her about something, he is surprised to find out that she is enjoying it to the same degree.

Her sleepy smile grows, and she runs her index finger through the hair over his left temple. "Indeed. The brain is the most important sexual organ of all, don't you think?"

He can only nod, feeling the pull of arousal that is now extending rather beyond the confines of his brain. Amy rests her palm on his cheek and sighs. He doesn't think he's ever enjoyed having her hot breath on his pillow quite so much.

In one quick motion, she then moves to peck a kiss on his lips, much like she does every night. "But I think it's for the best that we get to sleep. Good night, Sheldon," she adds, before pulling away and rolling over to turn off the light.

"Good night, Amy," he responds automatically. He is slower to get moving but soon flicks off his light as well.

He lies on his back in the dark and stares at the faint light along the edges of the window, wondering if he will soon feel Amy's body cuddling up close to his. It's tempting to move over to her himself, but if he were to snuggle up behind her, he'd be nudging at her with something far more substantial than a mere hug, and he has been told not to try anything tonight.

Sheldon sighs. Sleep is a long time in coming.

* * *

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed it. Where things go from here will depend on future episodes of season 10.


	2. Chapter 2: Post-1009

Summary: It has been almost a year, and Sheldon and Amy are circling one another, neither one quite sure of how to get where they both want to be. Starting after 10.08, "The Brain Bowl Incubation," this is a series of post episode stories to fill in some of the gaps of season 10. Each chapter should be able to stand on its own, but they also go together as parts of a larger story. Future chapters will, in large part, be shaped by whatever happens on the show.

Chapter 2, post-ep for 10.09, "The Geology Elevation": Bert is one giant of a man, but he is nothing more than the tip of the jealousy iceberg.

Note: If you see a word that looks misspelled, it's probably a pun, hon. This chapter exists because several readers kindly requested a continuation of what was originally a one-shot. Thanks to those folks for the encouragement.

—-

* * *

I.

* * *

Sheldon strides up four flights of stairs with a spring in his step, feeling like a whole new man. Today marks the dawn of a great new era. He never before realized what he has been missing, the joys of one of life's simple pleasures. As it turns out, a man really can have it all!

Boxer briefs: the comforting support of briefs without the hiney-climbing persistence of a high-cut leg opening. The world is a little brighter now that his knickers can never again threaten him with the wedgies of days gone by.

After the taping of Ellen, he and Bert had succumbed to the temptation to shop at the Ellen store as they left the studio. At Bert's recommendation, Sheldon had opted to try out the Ellen-branded underwear. While he has never been much of a shopper, Sheldon supposes that it was the overwhelming cloud of estrogen surrounding the entire experience that had made it feel natural. There had been so many women in that audience that he and Bert had stuck out like clueless engineers at a physics lecture. Sheldon hadn't let it keep him from having a great time, of course, even though his ears had been set to ringing by the constant barrage of so many ladies shouting 'Woo!'

Slower up the stairs, Bert eventually catches up. Sheldon is surprised to find that his new friend has followed him at all, but in his enthusiasm, he turns to him and says, "You're right. Boxer briefs really do rock!"

"Yeah. Geologists sure do like to have gneiss things, and I'm telling you, the ladies dig the look too. Those underwear are Ellen's best selling item, by the way."

"And rightfully so. Have a good evening, Bert."

"Hey, wait. I came up here to see if you guys want go out to eat or something? You or Amy? I've got quite an apatite after missing lunch. Besides, no one is more fun to hang out with than a geologist. We like to party allanite long."

Friendship is preferable to animosity, but he has had more than enough of this guy for one day. "No thank you, Amy was planning to cook for me this evening."

"I see. You're quite lucky to have her, you know. With the way things eroded between you guys last year, I hope you've since learned not to take her for granite. If she ever finds faults in your relationship again, I'll warn you that it might em-boulder me to go after her. And a guy like me knows all about making the bedrock."

If Sheldon hears even one more geology pun, he fears that he may have no choice but to karate chop the man again, even though he's not quite sure what that bedrock thing has to do with anything. "Good night, Bert."

"Bye, Sheldon. Tell Amy I said hello."

There is zero chance of that happening. He has no desire to see his new friend pursue his woman, and he is not at all convinced that Bert is over his prior crush on Amy. After all, the idea that a geologist like him could somehow do better than his girlfriend is absurd. No one can do better than Amy.

Sheldon fumbles with his keys and wonders if Bert is right that women prefer the aesthetics of boxer briefs. There's only one woman who gets to cast a vote on that subject when it comes to him, and he tries to imagine what Amy might say when she gets a peek at the goods before bed tonight. He figures she will appreciate the bright plaid print, similar as it is to some of her own fashion choices. The waistbands of all his new underwear are stamped with Ellen's name, an interesting souvenir of his outing, but he's not sure what Amy will think of that. Will another woman's name splashed across his most private garments incite jealousy?

They have only ever had coitus once, but that still ought to be enough for her to consider the territory hers. He certainly considers Amy to be his. Sheldon shakes his head, trying to shake off his immature feelings of possessiveness.

He pauses with his key held up to the lock, his light mood from before feeling heavier with every passing second. Jealousy is an ugly, often unreasonable emotion. Like so many other feelings, it is beneath such a superior being as himself. Sheldon has been proud of his ability to get over his bitterness about Bert's success. As he stands frozen in the hallway, however, he begins to become aware that his small victory has not been enough to win the greater war. Overcoming his feelings about the geologist's grant has not accomplished the primary objective that he had set out to achieve.

Sheldon takes a step away from their apartment door and scuffs the toe of his shoe against the ground. It's not a problem most of the time, and he is usually able to avoid giving it much thought. Ninety-nine plus percent of the time, he is happier than he ever thought possible. Every now and then, though, the doubts start to creep up on him, often at the most inopportune of moments.

Some kinds of jealousy are harder to tame than others, it seems, and the clock is ticking. The ring, coitus, permanent commitment… he feels like his life is partially on hold, paralyzed by his weakness to emotion, of all things. He must conquer his ridiculous insecurities before Amy's birthday, before she might come to think less of him as a man.

—

* * *

II.

* * *

Penny wrinkles her nose at the smoke billowing off of her skillet. The directions had said to brown the beef, but the contents of her pan have gone straight from pink to black. She moves the skillet to a back burner and frowns at the box on her countertop which offers her no further guidance. 'Hamburger Helper' her ass.

Amy and Sheldon take turns cooking for one another, and Penny had thought that she and Leonard should give that arrangement a try too. Alas, she's more suited to pushing microwave buttons than to using an actual stove. A quick look through the freezer saves the day—there's a box of frozen lasagna on the upper shelf. Leonard will no doubt figure out that she hasn't whipped up a home cooked meal, but he is a sweetie, and she's sure that he'll appreciate her good intentions. She hopes he'll still appreciate it after dinner, when she plans to have him try to scrub her burnt out skillet with some steel wool.

Penny keeps bracing herself for a rude comment from the other room, but Sheldon has done nothing other than sit quietly in his spot. If he's not over here to be aggravating, then she's not even sure what he's doing here at all. Annoying superiority is kind of his thing, and here he is missing a golden opportunity. After setting the microwave timer, Penny pours herself a generous glass of wine and then walks over to sit in the chair next to the couch.

"Please tell me you're not hanging out here because you've blown things with Amy."

Her comment seems to shake Sheldon out of his zoned out state. He looks at her, indignant. "Of course not. Things with Amy are better than ever. I'm merely having some visitation time with my spot. You and Leonard may be the ones living here now, but that doesn't mean I'm giving up full custody."

There's definitely something wrong with him. Like, something more wrong with him than in the usual sense. "I've known you for ten freakin' years, Sheldon. If you're here to get comfort from your spot, then something is up. This quietness isn't like you, and Leonard is going to be home any minute, so how about you cut to the chase and tell me what's bugging you?"

He doesn't respond. It's got to be something related to Amy, because he's never hesitant to rant about his other kinds of problems. She knows his love for his girlfriend is different, full of intense emotion that he always seems to bury under heaps of denial. Sometimes it's endearing and sometimes it makes her want to reach over and smack some sense into him. She's not sure which it's going to be this time.

Penny decides to prod him with a question that she is pretty sure he will answer, and if she's honest with herself, it'll satisfy a certain nosy curiosity of hers. "Are you getting nervous about the big day? Amy's birthday is coming up soon, and that's annual Shamy coitus day, is it not?"

That earns her a scoff, but it does get him talking. "That's none of your business. I'm not here to discuss something like that with you."

Ah, but he is here to discuss something with her. Penny is sure of it. She sits quietly, sipping her wine, figuring that he will crack sooner rather than later. It's close to his scheduled dinner time with Amy, and she knows that it would drive him crazy to be late.

As expected, Sheldon soon breaks the silence. Also as expected, he doesn't say something that makes any sense to her. "When our families were here for your wedding to Leonard, everyone thought that his father was offering far more than a mere nightcap to my mother that one night. Why was that?"

"Huh?" It takes her a second to flip her brain back to that time, but she can't for the life of her figure out why Sheldon's asking about that now.

"When someone invites a person over for a beverage at their home, or perhaps at their temporary living quarters, does it always mean that there is some coital subtext involved?"

Penny shrugs. "Not always, but sometimes. It depends on the vibe between the people and whether there's a romantic interest or spark. Inviting a person back to your place, or maybe to 'watch Netflix and chill,' is a pretty common way of suggesting some hanky panky."

"Vibe? Spark? That's not helpful. What if the two individuals in question were already dating? Is that what it means then?"

That's a bizarre question. "Your mom and Leonard's dad met that day. They weren't dating."

"Hypothetically."

"Ok, how about not hypothetically? What the hell is it that you're trying to ask me?"

Sheldon looks pale and uncertain as he examines his fingernails. "Amy dated a number of other men last year when we were apart, and she was dating one in particular when she and I got back together. The night I figured out the name of that song in my head and went to her, that man was in her apartment. She must've invited him, and I've since wondered what that might have meant."

Damn. Penny's pretty sure what a heartbroken Amy was trying to make herself do, but she never thought Sheldon would figure it out. And in all honesty, she doubts her conservative friend would've gone through with it even if Sheldon hadn't stopped by.

It seems like it ought to be safe to stick to the facts. "So this is what all that getting over jealousy business has been about, hmm? Sheldon, you've got nothing to worry about. For God's sake, she was a virgin when she slept with you, and she waited a hell of a lot of years because it was so important to her that it happen with you. You might have less reason to be jealous than just about any guy on this planet."

"Emotions can be stupid and ridiculous, the antithesis of all that is rational. Regardless, let's call my current state curiosity."

"Curious jealousy, maybe."

"Be that as it may, this curiosity has been inconvenient. It is interfering with certain aspects of my relationship with Amy."

"I'm not sure what you expect me to say, other than maybe 'get the heck over it'. If you want to know what was going on with Amy at that time, then you're going to have to suck it up and ask her."

Sheldon waves her off. "Oh, no, I couldn't possibly do that," he insists, like it's the most ridiculous suggestion he's ever heard.

"Why the hell not? And for that matter, why are you even asking me this kind of thing in the first place when you should be asking her?"

He tilts his head back and scoffs, affecting an air of superiority as he so often does. "For the same reason that I often come to you. Because I don't care what you think of me. As a friend, your opinion of me doesn't matter in anywhere near the same way that Amy's does. It can't hurt to bounce something off you first."

"So I'm what? Some kind of test person?"

"More or less."

It sounds like an insult, but of all the things he's said to her this evening, it might make more sense than anything else. What her friends think about her matters to Penny, but what Leonard thinks matters on a whole other level, and she knows how difficult it can be to admit certain things to her husband for that reason. With an ego like Sheldon's, it must be even worse for him. Amy might be the only one he's ever considered to be his equal, and as such, she doubts that he has ever held anyone's opinion in such a high regard. It's no surprise, then, that he tends to be reluctant to admit any kind of perceived failure or weakness to the person he loves the most.

"Look, I get it. Jealousy is difficult. But no one can help you with this except for Amy. You're going to have to work up the courage to be vulnerable with her sometimes. She loves you, and she's not going to think less of you. If anything, she'll be thrilled to get the chance to help you work through something that is obviously bothering you, especially if it has been having some effect on your relationship."

He doesn't answer her, and she hopes that his silence means he is considering taking her advice. Penny gets up and grabs a bag o' salad from out of the fridge. Maybe if she cuts up some extra vegetables to toss in the bowl, then she can count it as homemade. It's close enough.

The microwave beeps at the same time as Sheldon stands to leave. "Say hello to Leonard on my behalf, and my thanks to both of you for taking good care of my spot in my absence."

She suspects that this odd statement is his own special way of thanking her for the advice, so she nods. "And you say hello to Amy from me and Leonard. Make sure you pass along our thanks to her for taking such good care of you."

—

* * *

III.

* * *

Amy tries to put together the scattered words in her head in order to form a coherent sentence. The feel of Sheldon's lips sliding further and further down the skin of her neck is making it almost impossible.

He makes his way back up and whispers his question a second time, his breath tickling the sensitive area behind her ear. "Tell me again. What is the active component that is responsible for the intense heat that is generated?"

Her first thought is to tell him it's his own lips that are responsible for the burning heat that she's experiencing, but she knows he's referring to something else.

After dinner, Sheldon had become enthralled when she began to talk about the proper cooking process to prepare good Mexican food. Somewhere in the midst of her talking about her pico de gallo recipe and the importance of selecting the correct chile peppers with the aid of the Scoville heat index, Sheldon had made a move to kiss her. It's not the first time that he's ever initiated a make out in the middle of a discussion, but it does mark the first time that he has suggested they move their 'discussion' to their bedroom instead of the couch.

"Um… capsaicinoids, the primary one being capsaicin, are responsible for the sensation of heat generated by chile peppers, a feeling that can come from either the ingestion of the substance or the topical application of it." Sheldon pulls off her cardigan and gets to work on the buttons of her blouse. Amy's hopes are soaring ever higher, right along with her heart rate, and she's glad that the two of them are already lying on the bed, because she doubts that her shaky limbs would be able to support her weight if she were still standing.

She continues to sputter her scientific explanation, "And, uh, capsaicinoids bond to the pain receptors of the tissues they come into contact with, sending signals back to the brain. In response, the brain releases endorphins, raises the heart rate, and increases the amount of perspiration."

Those symptoms sound not unlike what she is experiencing right now. Sheldon kisses her lips as he finishes removing her shirt, and she feels the brief hot swipe of his tongue in her mouth, as if he's trying to taste the residual chemical heat she's talking about. When he pulls back so that they can both catch their breath, Amy tugs at his shirt, far more interested in exploring the heat of his body than she is in spending any more time thinking about their meal.

Never one to let something go until the topic is fully exhausted, Sheldon continues to ask for elaboration. "By what mechanism does this physical response occur?"

At least he remains focused enough on their other activities to help her remove his shirt. Her words come out in breathy fits and starts again, distracted as she is by the sight of his naked chest, arms, and shoulders. "It, um, it changes the way that cells use the energy from… from hydrolysis of denosine triphosphate. Energy that would normally be used to, um, move ions… is instead released as thermal energy when capsaicin is present."

Amy wonders if there are some trace amounts of capsaicin on Sheldon's lips and hands. She could swear she feels a burning trail of fire wherever he touches or kisses her. Then again, she can feel a substantial amount of heat in areas that he has not yet touched at all. When she runs her hands over his chest and back, she hopes that he is feeling it too. If the bright pink flush across his chest is any indication, then he must be.

"As I understand it," Sheldon mumbles, his lips brushing her own as he speaks into her mouth, "there can be a pleasurable and even euphoric effect from ingesting a food that is spiced with chile."

Pleasure, euphoria, and spiciness, indeed. It's impossible to keep herself from reaching for the button on Sheldon's pants, even though she knows it may be the thing that makes him pull away this time. Regardless of the fact that they have had coitus once before, there is always something that seems to hold him back from engaging in an encore performance.

To her surprise, though, Sheldon not only allows her to unbutton and unzip his pants, he even helps her slide them down his legs and off his body altogether. Down to his underwear, Amy finds herself faced with another surprise. Instead of his normal white briefs, he is sporting a pair of red and green plaid boxer briefs. The fabric looks inviting where it fits snugly around his posterior, and she takes the liberty of running her hand over the curve of his rear end.

Sheldon's throat bobs when he swallows hard, and he raises a nervous looking eyebrow. It's so cute to her that he wants to know what she thinks. Amy smiles and says, "These look amazing on you."

She thinks that they would look even better if they were pulled down below his knees or perhaps crumpled up in a ball on their floor, but she doesn't dare say that part out loud. In fact, rather than risk any kind of bold move that might scare him, she is careful to avoid the area that is more or less sitting up and begging for her attention. Instead she slides a fingertip along the side of his waistband, tracing the letters that mark out a name.

"A souvenir from the Ellen taping?" she asks.

A wide-eyed, unblinking Sheldon nods at her, looking hypnotized by the sweeping movement of her finger along his waist. From what she remembers of last year's dalliance, it took quite a while to get him to the point of being nonverbal, so his current silence seems like a promising sign.

She also recalls him enjoying the sound of her voice that night, so she continues to whisper in his ear as she slides her body up against the side of his. "Remind me to send a thank you email to whatever design team is responsible for supplying Ms. Degeneres' shop."

Sheldon smiles when her chest presses up against his shoulder. Amy smiles too and adds, "It's irrationally jealous of me, but I must admit that I would love these even more if they were marked with a-m-y instead."

He finally turns away from the sight of her moving hand to look her in the eye. When he does, she sees that his smile is fading away. Reaching one hand up, he cups her cheek and leans over to place a gentle kiss on her lips. His voice sounds both serious and sad when he assures her, "You have no reason to be jealous, now or ever."

His sentiment is so sweet that she wants to pull him in closer, but for reasons that she cannot fathom, he begins to pull away from her. She can feel an immediate chill on her skin as cool air rushes in to fill the areas where he was just touching her.

Amy has to close her eyes and count to ten to keep herself from whining. She won't allow herself to push him, but the pounding blood in her veins makes it difficult to allow her higher reasoning centers to rule over her libido.

She can feel when his weight leaves the bed, and then she hears him mumble, "I'm just going to go take a shower."

After he closes the door and starts the water running, Amy rolls over and buries her hot face in her pillow. Taking advantage of the muffling properties at her disposal, she groans and curses her frustrations into the uncaring fabric.

—-

* * *

IV.

* * *

When Sheldon reenters their bedroom after his shower, he finds that Amy is no longer in the room. An extensive cleaning ritual helped him rinse away the physical evidence of his most recent failure, but the knowledge that he may have disappointed her continues to weigh on him.

They were doing so well, and even though she took coitus off the table all those weeks ago, he feels certain that she was about to reconsider. He can almost feel the condoms in his bedside table drawer mocking him from all the way across the room.

To add further insult, he is now forced to admit to himself that Penny was right about what she said earlier. Penny, of all people! But it's the truth. If he wants to get these stupid feelings of jealousy out of his head, then he can't think of any other way to do so than to face the matter with Amy's help.

Sheldon gets dressed, and he finds that he misses having his girlfriend in the room to ogle his posterior while he does so. As if he isn't feeling like a primitive cave man already, here he is wanting to be appreciated for his body and not just his mind. He shakes his head at himself. The man he was years ago would be ashamed. Then again, the man he was years ago was ignorant of quite a lot of things, and ignorance of any kind seems like a far more shameful thing than admitting to being a human being.

Resolved to his embarrassing fate, Sheldon steps out into the main living area of the apartment in search of Amy. He finds her sitting on the couch reading a book, changed into a nightgown and no doubt waiting for him to join her so they can watch some tv.

Since it doesn't seem like she's aware of his presence, he takes a moment to think about what he should say to begin such a difficult conversation. He steps closer and opens his mouth.

"You dropped your bookmark," he says, bending over to pick it up off the floor. It's not quite the ingenious opening that he was aiming for.

Amy smiles at him as she takes it from his outstretched hand. "Ah yes, thanks."

She doesn't seem upset with him for ending their make-out session in such an abrupt manner, but that's not unusual, because she never does hold it against him. Sheldon looks around the room, hoping to spot something to talk about, anything at all that might help him start a conversation.

"Sheldon, what's wrong?"

"What do you mean?" he replies, continuing to look around in the hopes that a brilliant plan will somehow befall him.

"Whenever your eyes start darting all over the room like that, it always means that there's something you have to tell me that you don't want to. Like that time when I couldn't find my new car air freshener, and you wound up having to confess to dumping it at the cabin when we went to Big Bear Lake."

"It was too piney. It belonged in the forest with its brethren."

Amy tilts her head. "My point remains. There's something you're trying to say, and whatever it is, you can tell me."

She looks cute with her eyebrows all turned up in the middle. Sheldon can't seem to make himself say what he knows he must.

The corners of her mouth turn down. "Are you rethinking our new living arrangement? I thought our experiment was continuing to go well, but—"

"No!" he insists, jarred out of his nervous silence. "No, that's definitely not it." After thinking for a second, he goes on to ask, "Do you miss your old apartment?"

Amy looks indifferent at first, but then a smile starts to grow on her face. "Not exactly, but there are a number of nice memories I have of that place."

Sheldon nods, hoping that she's referring to the moments spent with him and not one of those other guys she dated. Annoyed and frustrated with himself yet again, this time he can't stop himself from starting to blurt out his worries, and once one concern tumbles out, the others follow in a nonstop ramble.

"Amy, why did you date a bunch of guys right after we broke up? I saw you kiss one of them outside your apartment once. Is it because he was better than me? You even had one of those men in your apartment on the night we got back together. What was he doing there? Did you invite him over to have coitus with him? Do you miss those other men now? Do you think you're going to leave me again someday to be with someone else?"

"What the—" Amy opens and closes her mouth a few times before she succeeds at getting out a complete question. "Where is this coming from?"

Sheldon shrugs, not wanting to say anything more. He already feels ridiculous about his outburst, and he's having a hard enough time simply catching his breath. Amy pats the spot next to her on the couch, and he not only takes her up on the offer, but he also grabs ahold of her hand in the process.

"Ok, um, we can talk about all of that if you want. I didn't realize that it was something that you ever gave much thought to."

He squeezes her hand and shrugs again, the closest he can get to admitting it a second time.

"Well, I first chose to start dating after you told me that you had asked out two women at a bar. That's when our breakup became real for me. It was a blow to my ego. I guess I always thought that your lack of interest in me was part of a greater lack of interest in all women. And at that moment I had to admit that maybe it was me that you didn't want, that I wasn't good enough."

He turns to look at her face for the first time since he blabbed. Her cheeks are a pale white as opposed to the pink shade from earlier. "But Amy, that's not true at all! I didn't want to date anyone other than you. I just didn't get to have you as a choice anymore. With Kripke asking you out, the guys told me that I was going to have to move on too."

Amy nods. "Yeah, I didn't really want to date anyone else either. I wasn't over you—I don't even see how I ever could be. So that's a big no to one of your other questions. I can't imagine someone being better than you."

"But you didn't want me. You were the one who rejected me." He intends to sound reasonable but fears his voice may have come out like a pout.

She takes her own turn at squeezing his hand. "I've always wanted you. At that time, I wanted more from our relationship than I thought you were ever going to want to give. You know as well as I do that we both learned a lot when we had to face living a life without each other. For me, that meant learning that a typical relationship with anyone else could never even begin to compare to what I have with you. I'm never going to break up with you again."

It doesn't sound so bad when she says it like that. "And the rest?" he asks.

Amy fixes her eyes towards her knees, and mumbles, "I don't miss anyone that I dated…" He stares at her in her state of obvious avoidance, and she sighs. "I don't owe you this explanation. We weren't together then."

"I know," he admits. "And though my feelings for you are immutable regardless of what you have to say, the curiosity remains."

She meets his eyes again and says, "Ok. I will tell you anyway because I love you, I have no interest in ever hiding anything from you, and I don't want you to carry some lingering worries over nothing."

She takes a deep breath before continuing, "When you rejected my offer to get back together last Thanksgiving, I decided that I had to force myself to let you go. I was devastated and angry and hurt, so I called up Dave. He seemed to like me, and yes, I thought I could push through all of those painful feelings if I could make myself have coitus with someone else. It was a stupid plan."

Tonight's Mexican food begins rebelling in Sheldon's stomach. He swallows down the nausea. It hurts to think of her even considering sleeping with someone else. He can't imagine being intimate in that way with anyone other than her.

Amy jiggles his limp hand. "But Sheldon, before you came over, I did learn another truth about myself. When Dave gave me a tiny kiss, I jumped away. I didn't even think about it; it was automatic, instinctive. Conscious mind, subconscious mind, body, you name it—there was no part of me that wanted to go through with it, and I don't believe for one second that I would have been able to."

That part makes him feel a lot better. If there's one thing he knows for certain, it's that Amy doesn't tend to pull away from physical contact when she's with him. It sounds like that guy didn't really stand a chance after all. As he finishes the thought, she lays her head on his shoulder. In response, he puts his arms around her to pull her in closer, resolving himself to the idea that he shouldn't pull away from her anymore either.

She's pressed against his chest in such a way that he can feel her jaw moving when she speaks again. "Are you ready to tell me what this is all about now?"

He supposes he should explain himself. "My attempts to get over jealousy with regard to Bert's achievement were designed more to get over the emotion in a broader sense. While I managed to overcome my ill will about Bert, my success did not extend to other issues that matter more. It turns out that it can be quite difficult to deal with that which is not rational."

"If you've been having residual jealousy about my dates with other men last year, then yes, that's irrational. I don't want anyone but you. I didn't then, I don't now, and I'm never going to."

Sheldon considers telling her the rest, about how the act of sex between them had turned out to be a more profound, cerebral experience than he had anticipated, about how it's been impossible to reconcile that experience with the idea of either of them doing it with someone else, and about how all of this jealousy nonsense has been affecting his ability to move forward with her. Now that she's reassured him of where he stands, though, it feels like it never should have worried him in the first place, and moving forward has never sounded better.

But he's not going to tell her all of that. Instead he mumbles an understatement while hugging her even tighter, "That's good."

Sheldon feels even lighter and happier than he did all day while trying out his new underwear. His time apart from Amy is more comfortably in the past now, and the ridiculous uncertainty that has been plaguing him no longer occupies a spot in his brain. She is obviously as devoted to him as he is to her.

It's Amy's turn to decide when they should proceed when it comes to coitus, and he is going to do his best to be patient and wait for her to put that particular subject back on the table. In the meantime, he decides to show his love for her with a different sort of gesture.

Picking up the remote control from off the end table, he places it in Amy's hand. She looks at him with raised eyebrows. "What is this? I get to pick the show tonight all by myself? Really?"

"I don't see why not. We compromise about everything."

"Yes, but I never get to actually wield the almighty remote control. Wow. I mean, what if I decide to turn on _America's Next Top Model_?"

Sheldon grimaces at the thought. Amy continues, "Or I might decide that we should start _Keeping up with the Kardashians_."

He squints at her. "You wouldn't pick either of those. I know you better than that. And just because you're pushing the buttons doesn't mean that I can't voice an objection."

Amy's straight face cracks into a broad grin. "You're right. I'm just teasing you, Sheldon. You do know me better than anyone."

She flips through a few channels and ends up settling on _Antiques Roadshow_ on PBS, a show that he's fond of too. After snuggling up to him again and wrapping one arm around his belly, she turns her smiling face to his and says, "This being in charge of the remote business is pretty nice."

The smirk on her face grows when she adds, "I guess I should've declared the all-encompassing, forever nature of my love for you sooner."

—

* * *

Author ramblings:

So what do you think? Did I sell you on the idea of Sheldon's jealousy going beyond what we saw in 10.09? Are these post-eps worth continuing? Do you want to strangle me for making you read all of those terrible geology puns?


	3. Chapter 3: Post-1010

Summary: "Why?"… "Why?"… "Oh, that's why." Starting after 10.08, "The Brain Bowl Incubation," this is a series of post episode stories to fill in some of the gaps of season 10. Each chapter should be able to stand on its own, but they also go together as parts of a larger story. Future chapters will, in large part, be shaped by whatever happens on the show.

Chapter 3, post-ep for 10.10, "The Property Division Collision": Sheldon and Leonard stop bickering about possessions that don't matter and start focusing on the people who do matter.

Please note that the rating on this story has been changed. I don't know that I'd consider it M rated so far, but this site's guidelines are super prudish, and I would prefer the freedom to write whatever I want as this little series goes on.

—-

* * *

I.

* * *

Leonard supposes that he should've anticipated how difficult it would be to divide up his and Sheldon's shared stuff. After all, the guy has almost never been reasonable about anything. That was a stunning level of selfishness, though, even for him. At least the worst of it is over now.

Ever since they called a truce, though, Leonard has found himself wondering about the oddness of the entire situation. The strange guy that Sheldon rented his room to was probably right that a lot of the tension was due to them missing one another. Change can be hard, and change when it comes to his former roommate can be all but impossible.

Still, he can't shake the feeling that there is something more to it. When he sees Sheldon emerge from his old bedroom with an empty packing box, he can't resist asking him about it.

"You know that you'll always be welcome to come visit me here, right? Our possessions are not that important."

"I appreciate that, Leonard, and I agree. That's why I'm only planning on taking a few things when all is said and done, and if I end up taking anything you'd like back, let me know. I'm sure we can come up with a solution."

"That's awfully reasonable of you." It's a big enough shift from how things started out that Leonard is all the more intrigued. "So out of curiosity, why did you make all of this so unnecessarily difficult to start with? I didn't think you would even care about a lot of this stuff."

Sheldon walks over to his spot where there is a new pile of their shared possessions to be divided up. He picks and chooses, placing a few items into the empty box one at a time. "That's true. It was more about the principle of the matter."

"Changing the router password and renting out your old room to some random guy off the street are not what I would describe as principled actions."

"That's quite an interesting observation coming from a man who chose to rub his genitals on the apartment flag."

Leonard sighs. That definitely wasn't the most dignified moment of his life. And his loving wife, of course, took pictures, so the moment will forever remain captured in digital form.

Pausing in the act of packing, Sheldon wrinkles his nose and looks askance at the stack of books that remains on the couch. "You didn't defile anything else, right?"

He is surprised to see that Sheldon has only taken about half of their jointly-owned books down off the shelves, and of that half, it looks like he has only put a select few into the box to take with him. He hasn't taken any of the ones that Leonard would miss, either. "No, I didn't."

"Thank goodness. I can dry clean that flag, but I don't know what I would have been able to do for these books." He closes the flaps of the box before turning around to face him again. "But to get back to your original question, I've been making use of our situation to serve as a sort of makeshift lesson on negotiation. You see, I've found compromise to be essential to my relationship with Amy, and we will soon be facing the new challenge of sorting out our living space. I thought it best to practice some strategies on you first."

"What? Ignoring the fact that you thought being one-hundred percent selfish was a good strategy for 'negotiating', I can't believe you put me through all of that like I'm some kind of test subject!"

"That surprises you? Huh. You needn't take offense, though. There are very few people I care about enough to deem them a worthy test case. It's an honor."

It doesn't feel like an honor. "Look, Amy isn't going to give up and let you do whatever you want the way that I tried to. If you take a selfish approach with her, you're going to have a bad time."

"I concur. Part of my plan with you was to see how hard I could push. I won't allow things to go wrong with Amy, and it's now clear that it's best not to go overboard. My initial approach with you was aggressive, I admit, but I've seen what can go wrong if a man's not careful. I'm referring, of course, to the disaster that is your current bedroom decor."

Unable to bring himself to put up a vigorous defense of Penny's decorating choices, Leonard shrugs. He folds his arms across his chest and tries to work up some amount of haughtiness, but his voice comes out more like a mumble. "It's fine. I wanted her to feel at home in our shared space. Compromises are important, remember?"

Sheldon scoffs. "That room does not look like a space that was negotiated. It looks like a girly dictatorship. I haven't seen so much pink in one place since that time Amy dragged me into Victoria's Secret. Seeing your new room gave me flashbacks, Leonard." With a shake of his head he finishes, "Victoria left her 'secrets' on display everywhere in that store."

"It's only one room."

Picking up his half-filled box, Sheldon says, "For now, yes, and maybe you're right not to let it trouble you. After all, there's a good chance that you might both have your own spaces again someday anyhow."

"What? Why would you go and say something like that?" After years of hearing outrageous things come out of Sheldon's mouth, Leonard still finds himself surprised at the man's audacity. This comment bothers him more than most.

Apparently, even his socially inept friend can tell that his remark was not well-received. Sheldon sets his box on the coffee table and takes a seat in his spot.

"That wasn't an insult, you know. It's a statistical reality that a majority of marriages don't work out. In the case of Penny and yourself, you both know each other very well, but you also have little to nothing in common. Now that I no longer live here to brighten your days, I'm not even sure what the two of you talk about."

"Our world doesn't revolve around you!" Even thinking about his marriage failing is enough to set Leonard's heart to pounding. It doesn't help that there is a touch of truth to his former roommate's words. "The differences between us are an important part of what makes our lives interesting. We expand one another's horizons."

"If you say so," Sheldon concedes, though he both looks and sounds skeptical. "There is still the matter of aging."

"Everyone gets older," Leonard sputters, taking a seat in the chair near the couch. "Even someone as perpetually childish as you."

"Be that as it may, that's not going to cause a problem for me or Amy. I enjoy my time with her now, and I will continue to enjoy our relationship when she is an old lady."

Leonard has to stifle the urge to point out that she already dresses the part, but he supposes that such a comment would only support Sheldon's assertion anyway. Instead he says, "And what makes you think that I don't feel the same way about Penny?"

Sheldon tilts his head. "I have an excellent memory, and to the best of my recollection, you have spent more time admiring Penny for her appearance than you ever have for any other reason. It's a fact of life that physical attractiveness fades as one ages."

"Just because I find my wife gorgeous doesn't mean that I don't appreciate her beyond that."

His objection doesn't slow Sheldon down. "You are fond of bragging about your relationship, but it seems to me that it always centers around her perceived 'hotness'. If you do indeed appreciate the non-superficial facets of her character, perhaps you should refocus some of the things you say. I suppose you can't compliment her on her intelligence—"

"Sheldon!"

His shout is enough to startle his friend. It doesn't stop him from speaking for long, though. Nothing ever does.

Sheldon waves his hand as if to dismiss the interruption. "I will admit that she has certain 'street smarts' or social skills or whatnot. She is also good to her friends and is a very accepting person—even for some of the awkward weirdos we hang out with."

Leonard figures his friend lacks the self-awareness to realize who the biggest weirdo in their circle of friends is. Part of him wants to yell at him for his rudeness, but another part of him is busy wondering how much truth there might be to what he is saying.

After thinking it over for a second, he admits, "I love a great many things about Penny. Maybe you're right that I should be clearer about that, and maybe each of us taking more of an interest in the things the other one likes would make a stronger foundation for our relationship." With his next breath, though, Leonard continues to defend himself. "But you know, there is nothing wrong with me having a healthy attraction to my wife and making it known to her. Everyone likes to know that the person they're in love with finds them attractive. For whatever mysterious reason, Amy somehow finds you good-looking, and you know you love it when she says so."

Sheldon looks taken aback to have the conversation turned on him. Shifting the burden of irritation to the irritating man on the couch calms Leonard's nerves, and he continues, "I can admit that my compliments to Penny are often about her appearance. I'm sure men have done that her whole life, and one of the reasons I think she chose me is that I see beyond that. But I will take your advice to speak of her other qualities more often."

When Sheldon gives a self-satisfied nod and opens his mouth to speak, Leonard beats him to it and says, "However, you might want to consider taking on the opposite advice. You have forever focused on your 'relationship of the mind' and your love of Amy's intelligence, and maybe you should try complimenting other aspects of her as a person, like, for example, her aesthetic appeal."

That earns him a scoff. "That's absurd. She and I are above reveling in such superficial nonsense. Besides, Amy is already aware of her attractiveness. We do own a mirror. It's self-evident, and her choice of conservative dress only proves it. When you've really got it, you don't have to flaunt it or seek validation from anyone."

"Are you saying that you don't enjoy it when Amy tells you how good you look?"

Sheldon squirms in his spot, and Leonard can sense victory in the air. It's not often that he gets to prove his friend wrong, and he is looking forward to it.

After a few more seconds, he does indeed concede. "Of course I do."

Leonard nods and tries to hold back a smirk. It's fun when Sheldon has to admit that someone else is right. He sees no reason not to continue hammering his point home. "I have no doubt that your ego compels you to already think of yourself as a fine physical specimen, yet you enjoy the validation of hearing it spoken aloud. Don't you think your girlfriend might feel the same?"

"I abhor restating the obvious, but yes, I imagine she would."

"Penny has probably heard compliments about her body her whole adult life, and I'm different in that I love and admire her mind and her heart just as much. Have you considered that Amy has probably been appreciated for her intelligence her whole life and that it might, therefore, be extra important for her to hear about some of the other things you like about her, superficial or not?"

"I called her cute yesterday. She did seem to enjoy that."

"See, there you go. You've already got something to build on."

To his surprise, his arrogant buddy is starting to look a bit insecure. "It doesn't usually go that well for me, not when it comes to talking to her about that kind of thing. Believe it or not, I don't excel at everything."

"Oh, I believe it."

Sheldon doesn't acknowledge the interruption. "Compliments are not my strong suit. Even when I find the perfect thing to say, she almost always finds a way to misunderstand."

Leonard attempts to picture Sheldon telling Amy that she is hot and desirable, but the figurative web browser in his brain only returns a 404 error, page not found. It's hard enough to imagine him calling her cute, and apparently that's already happened. He tries to say something supportive anyway. "I'm sure that you can find a way to keep at it. You'll be doing the right thing to take my advice on this."

Instead of expressing gratitude, Sheldon scoffs. "Don't be silly, Leonard. Your advice is a mere corollary of my own advice to you. Of course I would listen to me."

Sometimes he thinks that his friend has changed a great deal over the years, and at other times it seems like he is the same jerk of a man he was when they first met. Having had enough of him for now, Leonard stands and makes his way into the kitchen to get a drink of water.

When he next looks up, he spots Sheldon standing in the open doorway to 4A with his box of books under one arm. Before he steps through the door, he says, "Leonard, you have been an excellent roommate for many years, and I have no doubt that you and I will be fantastic neighbors. Thank you for your assistance in deducing an important truth for me out of my own advice. We really are the best."

—-

* * *

II.

* * *

Even after all these weeks, Amy continues to find it hard to believe that she is finally living with the love of her life. It's all so wonderful that it feels almost unreal to her. Her friends would no doubt think her crazy, but she likes nothing better than getting to spend so much time with him. She's considers herself a lucky girl.

After chewing and swallowing the last bite of his dinner, Sheldon looks up from his empty plate and gestures at her with his chopsticks. "Is that a new shirt? The bright colors and raucous pattern form a nice contrast to the uniform pallor of your skin."

Lucky girl, indeed. The happy smile on his handsome face makes it hard for Amy to concentrate, as does the fact that she can't figure out if she should be flattered that he noticed her new blouse or insulted that he has pointed out the pasty whiteness of her skin.

Over the years, he has rendered her speechless on more occasions than she can count. Sometimes it's due to his intellectual brilliance, sometimes it's due to his stunning cluelessness, and every once in a while, he catches her off guard with some tidbit of inadvertent sweetness. His most recent comment is either clueless or sweet. She supposes there's no reason to assume the worst. After all, he did call her cute the other day.

"Um, thanks, I think. Yes, it's new. It was a present from my mother." Unable to figure out any further response, she changes the subject. "She mailed the gift out early, but she has been trying to convince me to come visit her this Saturday on the day of my actual birthday."

Setting down his chopsticks in a rush, Sheldon looks at her with wide, concerned eyes. She hopes that the panicky look on his face is because he doesn't want to miss spending her birthday with her, and she really hopes that he has been looking forward to it for the same reasons that she has. Of course, he might just be nervous that she will expect him to accompany her to visit her mom.

"If—if that's what you want to do," he says, his voice sounding careful and measured.

"I already declined. I told her that with Bernadette's baby overdue, I wanted to stay close by so that I could be here for her when the baby is born."

Sheldon blows out a sharp breath. "Oh! Yes, yes, of course. We should all stay put… for Bernadette's sake."

Amy is pleased to see his nervousness dissipate. Not wanting to put any pressure on him when it comes to the matter of her birthday, she decides to stay on the new topic. "It feels like our poor friend has been pregnant forever. Tiny Bernadette has gotten so big! It's completely absurd—like she's about to give birth to a two month old baby or something. But Penny and I have decided it's best not to point that out to her."

"Indeed, that does seem wise," Sheldon agrees with a bob of his head. "And I'm confident that we can have a worthy celebration of your birthday here at home."

Hearing him call their place home already feels like the greatest of gifts to Amy. She smiles and says, "Yes, I'm sure that we can."

While she finishes the final sip of her drink, she notices that Sheldon has begun staring at her with an inscrutable look on his face. She looks down at her shirt and then dabs at her mouth, but she finds no evidence that she has made a mess of herself. Maybe she has something stuck in her teeth. She turns her head away and runs her tongue over the smooth surface of her teeth. Nothing feels unusual.

It would be unlike him to not simply make her aware of any of those things anyway. It must be something else. A bit unsettled by his ongoing attention, she moves to stack their used plates and gather their utensils.

As she stands up from the table, he finally says something. "You may be getting up there in years, but if I didn't know better, I wouldn't guess your age at a day over 30." His statement is accompanied by a flirty wink, leaving Amy speechless for the second time tonight.

Great. As if she hadn't been feeling old enough already due to her upcoming birthday, now she's got Sheldon to help point out that she's 'getting up there'. It's usually easy to talk to him, but she once again finds herself with nothing to say.

Amy hustles over to the sink and turns on the water to rinse their plates. After plugging the drain to start the water level rising, she squeezes the bottle of dish soap with more aggression than is strictly necessary.

Before she has the chance to take out some of her irritations by scrubbing the dinnerware, she feels Sheldon's arm brush up against her own. A piece of hair has escaped her hair clip, and he reaches up and tucks it behind her ear. "It's remarkable that even with your hair parted to the side so often, it never makes your facial features look off-kilter."

While she is still trying to puzzle that one out, he adds, "And your nose is so distinctive. I bet I could recognize you in a crowd even if I were standing hundreds of feet away."

Amy has had enough of whatever the heck he is up to. She releases the plate from her left hand and the sponge from her right, and she turns away from the sink to face him, drippy hands be damned. He looks both peaceful and proud of himself, but that doesn't make her feel any better.

"What is going on with you?" The question comes out as more of a shout than she intended. But really, what the hell?

His grin fades, and he shrugs. "I don't know what you mean."

She stares at him without saying anything, waiting for a better answer, but after a few seconds of silence, he just sighs and says, "May I help you clean up?"

It's his day to cook and thus hers to tidy up, so it strikes her as a sweet thing to offer. It's starting to feel ridiculous to be grouchy with him, and it's not like she hasn't heard egregious things come out of his mouth before. "That would be nice, thank you."

While Sheldon gets to work wiping the table and countertops, Amy goes back to doing the dishes. Both of them attend to their tasks in silence, and she's grateful for the chance to think things over some more.

He has been acting odd recently. It is rare in the extreme for him to mention anything about her appearance. She was ecstatic when he called her cute yesterday, and she wishes that he would've left it at that. For the most part, she has no real idea of whether he finds her physically appealing, and she's starting to think that it might be better if he goes back to ignoring the subject altogether. Uncertainty is vastly preferable to the risk of finding out anything else that she doesn't want to hear.

Before she met Sheldon, she never gave her appearance much thought. She looked good enough. Years of silence on the matter from her boyfriend, however, have caused a few insecurities to crop up. He did call her pretty once, on the very same night that he confessed his love, and it's one of her favorite memories. Sadly, that was over two years ago, and there have been many occasions since then when she has found herself questioning if he had truly meant it.

From what he has said so far tonight, things once again don't look promising, and she's quite sure she doesn't want to hear anything further. A distraction seems like an excellent plan.

Finished with the dishes, Amy dries her hands and lumbers into their living room. One of those Marvel superhero shows on Netflix that he likes so much should do the job. In a clumsy fashion, her thigh brushes against the remote on the coffee table when she walks by, knocking it onto the floor.

Oh well. That little physical failing should fit right in with the rest of her evening. Sheldon must be used to her lack of gracefulness by now anyway. Having finished his own efforts in the kitchen, she can see him coming closer in her peripheral vision. By the time she bends over to pick up the remote, he is standing right next to her.

Amy leaps up straight from her bent over position when she feels his hands sliding along each of her hips. The startling motion is almost enough to make her drop the remote again. He leans close to her and whispers in her ear, "The breadth of your hindquarters is quite stunning. Even with the bulky fit of your sweater vest, it remains a prominent factor of your physique."

She feels turned on and hurt all at once, and the flood of emotion makes her yank her body away from his. "That's enough! Why do you keep saying these kinds of things?"

"What do you mean? Isn't it obvious?" His shoulders slump, and he looks confused, which only irritates her all the more.

"If your intent has been to hurt my feelings, then yes, I guess it's obvious. Was it really so important for you to tell me that I'm pale and old? That you think my nose is big—but not so huge as my prominent ass, of course!"

Sheldon perks up at her outburst, his posture straightening out. But his face looks paler than ever, and his blue eyes are opened wide with apparent surprise. "What? No, that's not what I meant at all!" Shaking his head, he narrows his eyes and adds, "I told Leonard that this wouldn't go well for me."

"Leonard? What does he have to do with all of this?"

—-

* * *

III.

* * *

Penny never would've thought that she would enjoy chess so much. At Leonard's suggestion, they have added yoga to the game. Instead of being timed by a chess clock, the active player is limited in their thinking time by how long they can hold a yoga pose. If the move is not made before the pose is broken, that player loses their chance to move for that turn.

Leonard is a more experienced chess player, but he has been losing a lot of turns, so their game remains quite close. In all fairness, though, she has been doing her best to distract him from both the exercise and the chess. It's not her fault. He's too cute all squeezed into a pair of her tight yoga pants, and it's tough to resist grabbing his butt from time to time.

It's not going to take much for him to lose out on this particular turn. He's already wobbling in his shoulderstand, and it's going to be hard for him to reach the board from his upside down position. Gravity has caused his shirt to slip down, revealing his sensitive belly. She stays strong and manages to keep herself from running a finger across one of the ticklish areas near his waistband. Well, she manages to resist for a good ten seconds or so. That's got to count for something.

He reaches for a piece at the same time as she pokes him. The tickle happens faster than his move, and he flails when he tips over. Fortunately or unfortunately, he clips the chessboard on the way by, scattering the little black and white figures everywhere.

"Checkmate!" she announces. It's impossible to keep herself from giggling. She sits down on the floor next to his sprawled out body and then scooches over to straddle his hips. As she does so, her chest continues to heave with her laughter.

Once she regains some semblance of control, she leans over to kiss his cheek and says, "Sorry about our little game."

Leonard smiles at her and wraps his arms around her, pulling her into a little hug. "I don't think I was going to win that one anyway."

Her giggles are finally under full control, and she smirks. "Yeah, you were beat pretty bad. But you know, I can think of another game where we can both win—"

The front door swings open so hard that it ricochets off the inside wall with a thud. A pink-faced Amy and Sheldon storm through it, and though Penny never would've thought it possible, she finds herself missing Sheldon's annoying triple knock.

Amy's arms are folded across her chest, and Penny recognizes the 'my boyfriend is a jerk' expression on her face. She can see the exact moment when her friend realizes what she has intruded on. "I'm sorry to interrupt your… whatever this is," she says with a wave of her hand.

"It's yoga chess," Penny answers. She and Leonard stand up, and she has to be careful not to impale her feet on any of the pieces. Looking over at Sheldon, she says, "What did you do now?"

"Me? I didn't do anything other than to follow your husband's advice."

Amy frowns. "Really? Leonard suggested that you tell me I'm 'getting up there' in years and that the 'breadth of my hindquarters is stunning'?"

Penny gasps at Sheldon. "You. Did. Not."

Her husband looks annoyed, probably for a whole host of reasons. "I have no doubt that he did. But hey, Sheldon, It's just a corollary of your own advice, remember? It's not my fault that you don't know how to compliment your own girlfriend."

"What advice?" Amy snaps.

"Well, it all started with me," Sheldon says.

Leonard snorts. "It always does."

"I provided some helpful relationship suggestions to him earlier today. Well, it wasn't entirely altruistic on my part as there was a bit of a selfish motivation involved."

This time Penny can't help but interrupt. "You don't say."

"I do say. It's important that the two of you have a successful marriage. If things don't work out, Leonard might want to move back in with me—with me and Amy."

Folding his arms across his chest, Leonard says, "And some guy insisting on living with a new couple would be downright awkward and strange, right?"

It's no great surprise to Penny when Sheldon can't divine the irony. "Exactly." He steps closer to Amy and explains, "I pointed out that Leonard's strong focus on Penny's aesthetic appeal might be unwise if he's in it for the long haul. He, in turn, pointed out that it can also be important for a person to be made aware that she is appreciated for not only her mental acuity, but also for her physical attributes."

"And your words were supposed to somehow be interpreted as appreciation?" she squeaks, sounding incredulous.

"Yes, of course. With a doctorate in the biological sciences, I assume that you are aware of what are considered to be important traits when it comes to human mating selection?"

Amy nods, and Penny supposes it's good that at least someone knows what he's talking about.

"This evening I have spoken of several of them. I brought up the clear uniformity of your skin, your youthfulness in the sense of appearing to be well within childbearing years, your excellent facial symmetry, and your healthy waist-to-hip ratio. These are all attractive qualities and markers of genetic health."

Amy braces one arm against the back of the couch and cups her forehead in her free hand, making her look both stunned and confused. "You said that you could spot my nose from a great distance away. That doesn't sound like a desirable trait to me."

"Jeez, Sheldon," Leonard mumbles under his breath. Penny holds back a similar comment, but she can't hold back a snort.

"Your nose is not large. I said that it is distinctive, and that I would recognize your profile accordingly. It's part of what makes you look like you. That's a good thing, and it's rather important to me."

For someone who couldn't seem to string together a compliment to save his life, Penny has to admit that his explanations seem to be going over a lot better.

"Were you really trying to say nice things? I didn't know that you thought about any of that stuff at all," Amy says.

"Guys," Leonard interrupts. "Could the two of you please take your weird little foreplay back across the hall?"

Sheldon's head jerks up. Penny gets the impression that he had forgotten she and Leonard were still in the room. Amy looks embarrassed in a similar way.

"Sorry," she says.

"Yes, we should go," Sheldon agrees. "I'm sure the two of you would like to get back to your chess game."

Penny smirks at Leonard, and he grins right back at her. Yeah, chess. That's what they're going to get back to.

—-

* * *

IV.

* * *

Once he's back home across the hall, Sheldon takes a seat on the couch. He figures that it's probably a good sign when Amy chooses to sit next to him, but he can't decipher what the expression on her face means. With their previous conversation interrupted, it's hard to think of what to say to her now.

It pains him that she has somehow had doubts about him when it comes to all of this superficial mumbo jumbo. Sometimes he wishes that there was a way for her to read all of these feelings and emotions straight out of his brain. Unfortunately, he supposes they will have to talk about it instead. Ugh.

He still isn't quite sure why this is all coming as such a surprise to her, so he decides he might as well begin with that. "Amy, you have known for some time now that I consider you the best of what the human gene pool has to offer, right?"

Her voice sounds shaky when she answers, "Yes, but that has always been about our combined potential for superior intelligence. You've never spoken much, if at all, about physical appearance or—or sexual desirability."

"I suppose I haven't," he admits. "I was raised not to focus on aesthetic appeal. My father had a tendency to openly gawk at any attractive woman who crossed his path. My mother always made it clear to me that such behavior is not only inappropriate, but also disrespectful, because women, like men, deserve to be assessed by their more important qualities." Sheldon squirms in his seat and looks away form her as he finishes, "I have never wanted you to feel disrespected. But I have also never been unaware that your superior mind is attached to a superior body."

Finished with his admission, he feels brave enough to look back at her and see her reaction. Amy's mouth opens and closes, but he doesn't hear any words coming out. He's not sure if that's good or bad.

He decides that he might as well keep explaining. "That's a part of why the conversations we have when we are being intimate are so important to me. I like to keep communing with your mind as opposed to fixating solely on your body. To do otherwise… I think I would feel like some kind of heathen."

She stares at him for a few seconds, still not saying anything. But before he gets a chance to embarrass himself and start babbling again, she finally clears her throat and says, "I appreciate what you're saying. It means more to me than I can say. But Sheldon, I am far from being some ideal version of the female form. You must know that."

"I do not know that. Amy, I view the world through the lens of scientific logic as much as possible, and I know that you do the same. Feelings and emotions such as love and desire, however, are not always amenable to that kind of analysis. In retrospect, it probably wasn't the right approach to compliment you based on the theoretical science of sexual selection."

"No, it wasn't."

That short response doesn't tell him very much. Her voice isn't loud, though, and she's not making her scrunchy face of anger, so he figures it's safe to continue. "You do well by those standards whether you are willing to admit to it or not, and I'd be happy to go over that at length, if need be. But even so, a theoretical scientific ideal is not meaningful, not when it comes to something as subjective as desire. What matters is on the individual level—finding a suitable, agreeable mate who matches to a person's specific tastes. In my case, that's you."

He spots some moisture in her eyes and then hears her sniffle. By the time her chin starts to quiver, he wonders what he's said wrong this time. Instead of crying, though, her face breaks into a wobbly smile, and she wraps her arms around his upper body, squeezing him in a tight hug. It takes a few seconds for him to wiggle his arms out to hug her back, and a few seconds more than that to realize that she isn't sad, she's happy.

"You're not so bad yourself," she says, and he can feel her hot breath on his neck.

Finally, she has said something that has an easy answer. "I know."

Sheldon glances over her shoulder to check the time on his watch. Amy's birthday is a mere 28 hours from this very moment. She took coitus off the table when they moved in together, and he's been doing his best to wait for her to bring the subject up again. In 28 hours, however, he figures it ought to be safe to approach the matter himself. They did have a verbal agreement, after all.

In the meantime, he decides that he can make himself stick within the confines of 'making out'. She's squished up tightly to his chest, so he has to bend his neck at an awkward angle in order to kiss her lips. When he runs his hand over her bottom, Amy pulls away form his mouth with a little gasp.

Sheldon clears his throat. "I didn't think we should end our discussion without going over some more of the physical evidence." While he explains, he starts unbuttoning her sweater vest.

"E-evidence?"

"Right. I wasn't finished telling you all about your aesthetically pleasing attributes, like how short you are and how so much of your body is soft and rounded."

Amy puts her hand over his, keeping him from finishing the last button. "Sheldon, I'm not sure how many of your particular brand of compliments I can handle in one evening." Before he gets a chance to explain what he meant, she tilts her head to the side and figures it out all on her own. "You're talking about sexual dimorphism, aren't you?"

"Of course. The ways in which your body differs from mine are attractive. You're smaller than me and curved in an appropriately feminine way." He encourages her to stand up so that he can finally free her from that vest.

To avoid any nosy neighbors who might be rude enough to barge in, Sheldon takes her hand and tugs her towards their bedroom. Once they are safely ensconced within the confines of their room, he sees no reason not to continue with her blouse. "I can point out a number of things more accurately if we can unbury you from these layers of clothing. We can't have a proper waist-to-hip ratio appreciation session otherwise."

"Oh, I see. So this is in the interest of science, hmm?" She raises an eyebrow and reaches up to pull off his t-shirt.

"I may have more than one motivation," he admits, once his head is free from the fabric. "Some are rather prurient in nature, but others are altruistic. For example, it's important to me that you understand how right I am about your attractiveness."

Amy chuffs out a short laugh and uses her fingers to straighten out his hair. It must've gotten messed up during his shirt removal. "I know very well how much joy you take in being right, so I'm not sure that's going to count as altruism."

Their height difference appeals to him, but it is in no way convenient for kissing. Sheldon decides to remove his pants before he lies down, and he gestures for Amy to do the same with her skirt. She seems happy to oblige, and neither one of them waste any time getting into bed in nothing but their undergarments.

She rolls him over and presses several kisses to his bare chest. Once she starts running her hands over his shoulders, she stops kissing him and says, "I can appreciate some sexual dimorphism myself. I could swear your shoulders have gotten broader over the years."

Sheldon would love to hear her talk about him, but he doesn't want to get too distracted from his original mission. He rolls them back over and shifts his weight such that he can see her better. "I believe we were discussing your greatness at the moment, not mine, though I'd be happy to hear all about me later."

Not wanting things to get out of hand right away, he opts to start with her face. He traces over her brow, her cheeks, and her lips with his finger while he says, "It's not symmetry or youthfulness that matters to me. Someday we'll both be wrinkled old geezers, but I'll be just as fond of you then. It's all of the things that make you look like you that I enjoy, like your mossy green eyes, your muddy brown hair, and your wiggly caterpillar eyebrows."

Amy squints at him. "Sheldon, I love you, and I think you're the most brilliant, beautiful man on Earth. Don't take this the wrong way, but you give the most bizarre compliments I've ever heard."

"Should I stop?" She's caressing his own face and giving him a gentle smile, so she's probably not mad, but women can be kind of insane.

"No, definitely not."

That sounds promising enough, so Sheldon kisses her lips and her neck before moving on. He looks up at her when he reaches the edge of her brassiere, and he runs his hand down along the curve of her waist and across her rounded hip to her rear end. There is, by his estimate, precisely zero percent chance that he will manage to say the correct thing to her right now. She smiles at him while he continues to run his hands over various parts of her body, and she reciprocates his attentions by touching him wherever she can reach.

He freezes his movements in the instant that he realizes what his problem has been, the reason that he has been having so much trouble finding the words to talk about all of this. "Amy, I know that I have not given you many compliments over the years, and even though I'm trying, it's still not coming out right. I think the reason I find it so difficult is that I don't tend to think of you one tiny piece at a time. It's all of you put together that I find so compelling. I like your voice and the way that you smell. I enjoy looking at your body, and I love hearing what goes on inside your mind. But you are never one single thing at a time. You're everything all the time."

Amy pulls him closer to her, squeezing him in a strong hug, and he can feel the warmth of her body along all of the places that they are touching. Her voice is muffled a bit from where her mouth is pressed up against his neck, but he can still make out her words. "That's—that's a surprisingly beautiful explanation for an evening of such… unique compliments."

The carnal demands of his body are becoming stronger the longer he stays pressed up against her, and he has to close his eyes to reduce some of the stimuli when they continue to touch and kiss. Considering their discussion about desire, he supposes that his insistent penile tumescence is to be expected. It has no doubt been adding some tangible truth to back up his words this whole time. Still, keeping his eyes closed is not going to help for much longer. He needs to stop now. The privacy of the bathroom beckons.

As soon as he starts to pull away, Amy holds on tighter. "You don't need to leave," she whispers. "Do it here."

He knows how smart she is, and it shouldn't come as a surprise to him that she knows what he has been up to after their make-out sessions, but he feels twinges of mortification anyway. She rubs circles on his back while he thinks it over. It's difficult to think while he is fighting the instinctive urge to grind his lower body against hers. Doing what she is suggesting in front of her would be so embarrassing and personal, intimate and awkward. It's Amy, though, and he wants to. He wants a lot of things with her.

"Sheldon, what do you think I do each time you vanish after we make out?"

Her confession instantly ratchets up his sense of urgency, and his eyes snap open for the first time in several minutes. It had never occurred to him before that she would have been doing a similar thing all those times.

"You don't have to," she whispers, raising an eyebrow, "but I will if you will. And I won't peek unless you do."

As what she is proposing sinks fully into his brain, his decision becomes very simple. He's glad that he has been able to open his eyes. Now that he is looking at her, he doesn't want to look away again. "I'll stay."

Intense moments like this with her are so much easier when he has something else to think about at the same time. Amy, brilliant and ever-resourceful Amy, knows this about him. With her eyes still locked on his, she begins to share her mind with him.

"People often use the word 'aesthetics' to refer to physical appearances, implying a connotation of superficiality or shallowness. But aesthetics is actually a Greek term for an entire branch of philosophy."

Amy pulls one of her hands away from his body, and he can sense her moving it downward and towards her own body, but she doesn't break eye contact with him. Sheldon reclaims one of his hands too. He swallows hard before adding to the conversation, "A philosophy, yes, but it revolves around concepts of beauty nonetheless."

"Beauty, in the aesthetic philosophical sense, is about more than what is visually appealing, and instead involves all forms of sensory perception—everything that makes us feel." Her breathing catches for a second when she gasps, but she quickly clears her throat and continues. "Um, and it's worth remembering that sensory perception is the only way that we as humans ever experience anything."

"I see. It sounds like it is complex beyond something as simplistic and shallow as evolutionary sexual selection." Sheldon rests his forehead against Amy's and enjoys the feeling of her panting little breaths against his lips. The feelings being generated by his own hand blend seamlessly into the moment, his former reservations a distant memory already.

"Right. We can find beauty in the sounds of music or in the smell of a flower, and we can find beauty in what we discover and create, like in the fields of math and science, or in the world of a good book." Her voice starts to tremble as she continues, "What matters is if the thing that is being perceived brings, um, positive feelings to the observer. There is even a, um, field of neuroscience called neuroaesthetics, which studies the effects of perceived beauty on the brain."

When he speaks, he realizes that his voice sounds shaky and deeper than normal too. "So I shouldn't assume that beauty is a superficial quality. It sounds like it's a blend of many things, exactly like the way I think of you."

"Yeah." The hand that Amy still has wrapped around his back clenches at the deltoid muscle of his shoulder. "Yes, um, our sense perception forms the basis of even our highest thought processes, and there can be beauty in all of that."

There's plenty of aesthetic beauty right in front of him, and instead of risking another botched attempt at a verbal compliment, he presses kisses to her lips, her cheek, and the area under her ear.

Her words are coming out in slow, choppy fragments, but Amy continues to talk to him. "So, um, visual input still matters… of course. But, um, so do all the other ways we interact with the world…"

She pauses and blows out a sharp breath before continuing, "There's what we can smell and what we can hear…" The volume of her voice is fading with every word, and he can barely make out her whisper, "There's what we can taste, and, um…"

She seems unable to finish her sentence, and he can feel the sharp little indentations of her fingernails on his back. He's finding it close to impossible to form words as well, but his desire for closure compels him to sputter out the end of her sentence. "And what we can touch."

* * *

—-

* * *

Note: Thanks for reading, and thanks to those of you who have posted encouragement! I hope this one wasn't too long. Addressing the issues of attraction and desire in such a direct way while trying to stay true to Sheldon's character proved to be a big challenge. I'm not sure what anyone will think of it, so I'd love to know how you think it turned out.


	4. Chapter 4: Post-1011

Summary: "Why?"… "Why?"… "Oh, that's why." Starting after 10.08, "The Brain Bowl Incubation," this is a series of post episode stories to fill in some of the gaps of season 10. Each chapter should be able to stand on its own, but they also go together as parts of a larger story. Future chapters will, in large part, be shaped by whatever happens on the show.

Chapter 4, post-ep for 10.11, "The Birthday Synchronicity": Sheldon whips out his wand and explores Amy's 'Chamber of Secrets', conjuring up some birthday magic for his foxy teakettle.

—

* * *

I.

* * *

 _Alohomora_ , Sheldon thinks to himself, waving his wand in the direction of their apartment door and shooing Amy towards it.

His unlocking charm proves successful when she turns the knob to grant them entrance to 4B. She assisted the matter with a key, of course, but he isn't going to let that ruin the illusion. They hustle inside, and Sheldon is pleased to see the broad smile on her face. She seems happy, and he hopes that she is looking forward to the remainder of her birthday as much as he is.

He closes the door behind them and turns to face it. With another flick of his wand, this time he chances speaking out loud, hoping that she might play along with him. " _Repello Muggletum."_

Amy snorts and sets down her bag of souvenirs. He can feel the rough fabric of her Hufflepuff hat brush against his forearm as she ducks under his wand-wielding arm. "A muggle-repelling charm is suitable under the circumstances, but perhaps we should make use of this boring old door lock as well."

"Agreed," Sheldon says with a nod.

While Amy twists the deadbolt with her free hand, she flicks her wand and adds, " _Colloportus_." Hearing her cast a spell makes him even more enthusiastic for what the evening might entail.

She turns back to him with her head cocked and one eyebrow raised. There should be no further interruptions this evening, but a locked door and an anti-muggle incantation can't have hurt their chances. As he looks at Amy's expectant face and ponders the optimal way to begin the festivities, he spots something on top of a nearby bookshelf, something that he had purchased the day before but forgotten about in the haste of their crazy day.

He stretches out his arm to its fullest extent, and with the aid of his long wand, he finds that he is able to cover most of the distance to point out his target. " _Orchideous._ "

Amy shifts her attention in the direction that he is aiming and takes a few short steps over. "Flowers? They're beautiful, Sheldon. Thank you!" Leaning her face down, she smells the colorful blossoms. "I'm quite the lucky birthday girl today—a romantic fMRI brain scan, a healthy new pseudo-niece, a trip to 'The Wizarding World of Harry Potter', and now flowers."

"Have you perchance been brewing some liquid luck—the Felix Felicis potion?"

Amy stands back to her full height and smirks. "No. But with less than one hour of my birthday left, I'm still holding out hope that I'll get lucky anyway." She points her thumb in the direction of their bedroom. "To that end, perhaps we should make our way to the Room of Requirement. It should have everything that we need."

Sheldon smiles, relieved and grateful that she is making things easy for him. Sometimes it still makes him nervous when he thinks about it, but physical intimacy with Amy always ends up feeling natural when they are in the moment. He pulls off his scarf and plucks the hat off of her head, an action that leaves her hair a mess. She doesn't seem to mind, though, nor does she mind when he wraps his arm around her waist and starts making chugga-chugga train noises. "All aboard the Hogwarts Express."

She laughs while they shuffle the short distance to their room.

" _Lumos Maxima,_ " he says when he hits the light switch, filling their bedroom with the soft light of a floor lamp.

It's not until he closes the door behind them and turns to face her that her quiet laughter calms down to a gentle smile. "It appears that you've taken me someplace magical."

"That's the plan," he admits.

While she begins walking in a slow circle around him, Amy taps her wand against her chin in a contemplative fashion. "You're not wearing an invisibility cloak, but I suppose I could still allow you to come visit my restricted section."

He can't believe that she's been holding out on him like that! "You have books that you won't let me read?"

Amy's steps come to a halt, and she reaches up to gently brush his cheek with the backs of her fingers. "Of course not. That was a euphemism, Sheldon."

It takes him a second, but he soon figures it out. "Oh, I see. You're suggesting an exploration of your 'Chamber of Secrets', as it were."

"Exactly."

"Well, I can assure you that as an adult wizard in full possession of my mental faculties, I am more than capable of choosing to peruse my mate's 'restricted section', assuming that she is amenable."

"Oh, she's amenable, for sure."

As always, he has to stoop down to kiss her. She stretches to wrap her arms around his neck, but even when she's on her tiptoes, he towers over her. Their kiss intensifies, and as he presses up close to her, he accidentally pokes her with his wand a few times. It isn't long before he is forced to stop and catch his breath.

Taking a step back from her, Sheldon strokes the length of his wand while he considers what spell to cast next. Amy waits patiently, though he can see her eyes tracking the slow movement of his hand. Only one thing comes to mind as the obvious next step. The birthday girl is wearing far too many clothes for coitus to be feasible. He runs the tip of his wand down the zipper on her Hufflepuff sweatshirt and utters a revealing charm. " _Aparecium._ "

Tilting her head and biting her lip, Amy slowly sets her wand on the bed before beginning to unzip her sweatshirt. As she removes that garment and gets to work on the rest of her attire, she says, " _Aparecium_ is a spell that's used to reverse a concealment charm. I'm not sure that it would work on a physical item like clothing. I think you would need an incantation that interacts with the tangible world rather than one that interacts with magic itself."

Her nitpicking attention to the authenticity of their play is almost as arousing to him as the sight of her increasingly revealed body. The combination makes him feel like he's been hit with a confundus hex. He stares at her, unmoving, until she has run out of garments to remove.

It's no surprise to him that Amy notices his stunned state, and of course she knows the counter spell. Picking up her wand, she nudges his midsection and says, " _Rennervate_."

His head jerks as he snaps himself out of it. A little embarrassed at having been caught gaping at her, he isn't quite sure what to say.

Fortunately, it seems that Amy does know what to say. " _Accio Sheldon's current attire_."

He has to admit to himself that her spell is more legitimate than his. If she'd been vague and said 'Sheldon's clothes' then he would've had to hand her all of the clothing from his drawers and laundry basket, and that might've ruined the mood a little bit. But as expected, her spell is precise in both accuracy and specificity. Her breadth of magical knowledge makes him wonder how she could have ever been sorted as a Hufflepuff and not a Ravenclaw.

In any case, he is happy to obey her command. After setting down his wand, he removes his robe and hands it over to her. One at a time, he continues to remove articles of clothing and pass them to the woman who has summoned them to her.

Fastidious as ever, she sorts each garment that he gives her. Most of them are set into their laundry basket, but she folds his robe and places it on her dresser next to her own discarded Hufflepuff garb. The orderliness of her actions soothes some anxious part of his brain that he can't name. Amy would no doubt be able to identify it, but he doesn't want to interrupt the proceedings to ask her.

Having lived with her for a few months now, he is familiar with the sight of her naked body, and he knows that she has ogled his form on many occasions as well. Nevertheless, he finds himself feeling shy. From their many make out sessions, he knows exactly how to get past the feeling before it overwhelms him. He reaches down and takes his wand in hand again. " _Accio Amy_."

She closes the small space between them in an instant, and he pulls her into a hug. Physical contact almost always leaves him unsettled rather than comforted, but Amy has never even come close to following his brain's typical rules and patterns. She throws exception flags all over his mind's internal coding, and as such, the warm press of her skin against his is nothing but pleasant.

Her lips feel soft where she presses a kiss over his heart, and her eyes look shiny when she tilts her head up. "You don't have to say _Accio_ to make me come, Sheldon."

Before he can figure out why she would say that, he is distracted by several gentle kisses to his neck and chin that culminate in one substantial kiss to his lips. Her bare hips feel soft and smooth when he runs his hands over them, as does the rest of her posterior. Amy gasps into his open mouth and pulls back far enough to say, "I'm starting to feel like I've been hit with the Jelly-Legs Curse."

That's easy enough to remedy. Sheldon holds on to her tightly and turns so that his back is facing the bed. His wand is pressed up between them, assuring that his spell will hit them both. " _Everte Statum._ "

This hex throws the target backwards, and the two of them land in a cozy heap on their bed after Sheldon tips over with her tucked snugly against his chest. Amy makes a squeaking shout at the motion, but her surprised face morphs into a smile when she realizes what he has done. She takes the wand from his hand and says, "We should be careful not to break this. And as you know, 'just because you can do magic now doesn't mean you have to whip your wand out for every tiny little thing'."

Sheldon recognizes the quote right away. She examines his wand, running her index finger along its length, and when she begins to speak again, he recognizes some of her next words as well.

" 'Rather thicker than one usually sees…quite rigid…' a perfectly serviceable length." She places their wands together on the far side of the bed. "I think we're done with these for now."

He agrees, "Yes, I've heard that charming a witch isn't all about wandwork."

The way that Amy looks down and eyes his nether regions makes him wonder if she's still thinking about wands at all. "Perhaps not, but proper wandwork doesn't hurt a wizard's cause on that front."

If that's the case, he's not sure why she put their wands away. It'll be fine, though. Sheldon knows that a powerful wizard can cast a spell without one and can even do magic without speaking the words aloud.

Amy's body is still sprawled halfway on top of his from their fall, leaving her in a useful position for him to get back to kissing her and running his hands all over her skin. They may have only had coitus one time, but they've made out often enough that he knows which areas provide her with the most stimulation. It always strikes him as convenient that the areas he most enjoys touching and kissing are the same ones that seem to provide her with the most pleasure.

He's been feeling quite stimulated himself for some time now, and he's sure that it has not escaped Amy's attention. When one of her busy hands finally makes contact with his own most preferred area of stimulation, she pulls back from his mouth to speak. "It appears that you have been subjected to a persistent Engorgement Charm this evening."

Thrilled by both her touches and the fact that she has decided to continue with their game, he can't hold back a happy gasp. The pleasure is intense enough that he can't resist letting her stroke him for a while, even though he knows that he must pull away soon. He doesn't want her to end up with the wrong kind of birthday surprise on her hands, so to speak.

When he can't wait any longer and twists his hips away, he sees the grin on her face grow wider. "This is fun. I can make you moan more than Myrtle's ghost, and I bet we can turn our quiet little room into the Shrieking Shack before the night is over."

With her hands now occupied applying caresses to his chest and shoulders, Sheldon finds it a bit easier to think. He rolls her underneath him. "You're right again, Miss Farrah Fowler." Raising his right arm, he waves it in the direction of their closed door. " _Muffliato._ That should keep any potential nosy listeners at bay. Feel free to screech like a mandrake if the need arises."

She nudges her hips up into his own a few times, a rhythmic motion that generates some compelling friction. It's impossible to stop himself from gyrating back at her. "I can feel the need arising as we speak," she says.

Sheldon can too. Unfortunately, reality must intrude to interrupt them one final time. He prepared by purchasing condoms months ago, but the inconvenience of stopping to put one on can't be avoided. With hasty, fumbling movements, he forces himself to pull away from her and sit up, intending to take care of the matter as quickly as possible.

The first one rips when he isn't careful enough tearing the package open. "It's too bad that there's no magic spell for birth control," he says. "I wonder what the words would be for such a thing. _Fetus nonconceivus_? _"_

He's not joking, but Amy looks amused anyway. "I would've thought you'd be a big fan of condoms, Sheldon. In fact, sometimes I'm still surprised that you don't opt for a full-body latex suit when we're being intimate."

It's by no means a graceful process, but by taking more care with the second one, he is able to get it on. He wrinkles his nose at Amy's last statement even as he crawls back over to her. "You know my feelings on the subject of our future progeny. As such, I consider any such barriers unnecessary."

" _Baby-us not today-us_ ," she says, making it clear that she hasn't changed her mind about that yet.

"Technically there has already been a baby today."

"Not one that we are responsible for. Besides, that's not what I meant about the latex."

"Oh. If you're instead referring to my issues with germs, I would've thought you'd have figured that out by now. It's no longer a relevant concern when it comes to you. After years of increasing physical contact, I've come to accept that we're more or less sharing a single microbial ecosystem at this point."

This time Amy wrinkles her nose. "I can't decide if that's beautiful or revolting."

He shrugs. "Let's just call it true."

Last year he learned that it's easier if he lets her control the docking procedures, so Sheldon tugs on her hips to encourage her to roll over on top of him. She must've decided to consider his previous statement beautiful, because she is back to smiling at him as she straddles his hips.

He would return her smile if he could, but he is too distracted with awe at the sight of her beginning to fit their bodies together. Once she has succeeded, she leans down to kiss him, smooshing their chests together too. She must feel just as eager as he does, because she begins to shift her pelvis right away.

Though his mind is blank of anything brilliant to say for their game, he continues to feel caught up in the magical aura of the experience. When Amy sits back up, her new position makes it impossible to kiss her. It does, however, allow him the opportunity to enjoy the sight of her moving above him. She is quiet for a few long moments, but eventually she reaches over and traces her finger across his forehead, whispering, " _Legilimens_."

That spell is no small demand at a time like this. Legilimency allows a witch or wizard to delve into the mind of another person, giving them access to that person's most private thoughts, memories, and emotions. He's already literally stripped himself bare to share his body with her, and even though it makes him nervous, he's not opposed to sharing his mind with her in a similar way. In fact, it's quite in line with their recent make out sessions.

"You can block me with Occlumency," Amy adds, slowing the movement of her hips to a near halt while she speaks. "I'd love to know what you're thinking about while we do this, but it's okay if you don't want to."

His voice comes out sounding shaky. "I don't want to block you. I love you." He swallows hard, trying to shove aside his apprehension. "I'm only worried that I'll say something I shouldn't."

"It will be fine. I promise I won't get upset no matter what you tell me. I just want to hear you."

He believes her. "Okay."

It's hard to sort through all of the swirling thoughts in his head, and he soon gives up, deciding to simply say whatever runs through his brain. It seems like the appropriate course of action anyway. Legilimency doesn't allow for censorship.

With every other slow slide of his body into hers, he shares a fragmented piece of his thoughts. "This feels perfect… I remember this from last year… All of it… It's way past my bedtime… I should feel sleepy… I like to watch your breasts when you move… I'm not supposed to say something like that."

Amy grunts and digs her little fingers into his shoulders. It doesn't stop him from continuing to speak. "I want to make train noises again… But you wouldn't laugh if I did it now… I don't like feeling out of control… It's okay if it's just with you… I didn't think I could ever do this… I'm glad I'm not a house elf… I am fond of one dirty sock though… My thoughts sound weird even to me."

He has to stop for a second when the shaking movements caused by Amy's sudden giggles create a bit too much stimulation. "I'm loving your thoughts," she assures him, shifting her upper body close enough that she can place a kiss on his forehead. "You have the best brain."

Hugging her tightly to his chest to prevent her from wiggling, it takes all of his concentration to calm down. When he can stand it again, he loosens his hold on her and they resume their combined rhythm. His superior brain soon reminds him that it's a good idea to slide a hand down between them at this point. Amy's breath catches for a second when his fingers make contact with the correct target.

In the brief moments when he can manage to work around his gasping breaths, he continues to talk to her. "I love your brain too… I can't finish yet… It's too soon… I hate when people write 'should of' when they mean 'should've'… It doesn't even make sense… It's been 366 days since we last did this… I don't like leap years… I wonder if I'll be able to think about anything but this tomorrow… It stuck in my head last year… Scary… I felt mindless… Like an engineer."

The words coming out of his mouth slow further even as his lower body picks up the pace. "No one had better interrupt us now… You're going to be on the other side of this spell someday… You better count on it…" It's becoming almost impossible to speak. He can only choke out a few more words, "I hope you're having a happy birthday."

"I'm very happy," she insists, her voice sounding adamant despite her labored breathing. "I'm so, so happy. The happiest. There isn't a strong enough word."

Before he can even try to get back to his babbling and tell her that he understands that feeling, she presses an enthusiastic kiss to his lips. He's glad that he doesn't have to try to form words while her body tightens around his where they are joined. He pulls her hips down firmly to his own while she squirms above him and groans into his open mouth. Within less than a minute he can feel the hard, squeezing pulses of her climax, and once again he finds himself thankful that his mouth is too occupied with hers to be able to speak. It would be impossible to describe what is going through his mind without sounding terribly vulgar.

In time she pulls her mouth away from his and buries her flushed face against his neck. He can feel her hot, panting breaths close to his sensitive ear while she recovers. It's difficult to remain patient, but he slows down his movements as much as he can and waits for her to come around. Instead of distracting her with more of his thoughts, it somehow feels right to him to stay quiet now.

Once she has caught her breath at last, she tilts her head back far enough to meet his eyes and then whispers in his ear, "Mmm. Ten points to Gryffindor!"

—

* * *

II.

* * *

It's likely to be a fanciful bit of imagination on her part, but Amy could swear that the light from their kitchen window is somehow brighter this morning. She takes a bite of toast and watches Sheldon pour himself a bowl of cereal in the kitchen. He appears deep in thought, which is not unusual. What is unusual is that he has so far stayed quiet about it. After adding milk to his bowl and getting out a spoon, he makes his way over and takes a seat across from her at their tiny dining table.

They're both fully dressed to face the day, but that doesn't stop Amy's mind from flipping through memories of last night's coital dalliance. Sheldon is staring at her while he takes slow bites of his cereal, and she wonders if he is doing the same thing. Though it's tempting to ask him about it, she feels like she has pried into his thoughts enough as of late, and it seems best to wait out his quiet mood. She doesn't have to wait long.

Once he has finished the final two bites of his breakfast, he sets his spoon down in his empty bowl and meets her eyes with his own. "Amy, are we weird?"

That's an interesting opener. Unsure of what he's really trying to ask her, there's only one response that leaps to mind. "We've been together for over six years and you're just wondering that now?"

He frowns. "I'm being serious."

She tilts her head while she considers it. "I think something like that is very subjective. Weirdness, like beauty, is in the eye of the beholder. To be fair, though, most of those who behold us do tend to think we're unusual."

"I mean with regard to our… intimate activities. We carry on some rather interesting conversations in those moments. I can't say I've ever felt a single speck of regret about any of it, but I can't help wondering. Are we some kind of deviant perverts?"

Amy has to bite her tongue so that she doesn't smile and make light of his concerns. It makes perfect sense to her that a man who was raised in a conservative religious household might have some qualms the morning after engaging in extensive Harry-Potter-themed fornication.

"No, we're not. Enjoying one another's minds along with our bodies does not strike me as deviant in the slightest. People tend to label perversions as whatever activities they don't happen to engage in, but I think being judgmental about others' intimate choices is nonsense. We are adults choosing freely and hurting no one. That's all that matters by my moral standards."

She's pleased to see more color in his cheeks, and he's starting to lose the serious expression that was stuck on his face. "That seems fair."

"It's more than fair. I love how we are together. I think it's hot, and I couldn't care less if someone might consider it strange. Besides, no one has to know what goes on between us other than you and me."

"You won't tell the girls?"

"That we've had whimsical and inventive sex that rocked my world? No, I suppose I can keep it to myself."

Sheldon smiles at that, and if she's not mistaken, it looks like there's a hint of arrogant pride in his shiny eyes. "We are rather… hot."

That word sounds so wrong coming out of his mouth, but that only makes her enjoy hearing it all the more. "We are indeed. And maybe our path together has been different than what most people go through, but at this point it all feels perfect to me."

His smile begins to fade and a few creases appear on his forehead. Biting his lip, he shifts his gaze down towards his lap and starts absentmindedly folding his napkin. Taken together, it's a combination of actions that she can only interpret as anxiety. That seems incongruous considering their conversation. Amy can't think of a single thing she's said that would have him feeling anything other than reassured.

After a few seconds he releases his lip, but he doesn't look at her when he starts to speak. "I am aware that one year between instances of coitus is far from what most would consider perfect. Are you sure that you've been content with that arrangement?"

There's nothing quite like starting the day with a fully loaded question like that. Amy's not sure what he is hoping to hear from her. It doesn't matter, though, because the truth is the truth regardless, and she isn't going to lie to him. This isn't a conversation that she wants to have with the top of his head, so she tugs the napkin out of his hands to capture his attention. She waits until she can see the blue of his eyes before she starts to address him.

"Sheldon, I love to be close to you in whatever way we choose to be together. Coitus is special, but so are all of our other intimate encounters. Making out can still end in a mutually satisfying way. I don't think that there is a right way or a wrong way for us to explore this part of our lives. Whatever we both feel comfortable with at any given time is what's right for us. Believe it or not, I'm not in a hurry for anything in our relationship."

He looks skeptical at that last part, and she can't really blame him. But there's a big difference between the years when she had only the tiniest hints of physical affection from him and what they have now.

Given his skepticism, she opts to elaborate. "I know that it wasn't always the case for me, but you're not the only one who has changed over the course of our relationship. I know now that we always get where we both want to be eventually, and it's not necessary for me to push you about any of it."

He tilts his head and squints at her, like he's sizing her up in some way. After an uncomfortable period of silent scrutiny, he finally asks, "What if we both decide that birthday coitus isn't enough?" She can usually read him pretty well, but the current expression on his face is an utter mystery to her. "I suppose we were canoodling well past midnight last night, so technically we're already in violation of that plan," he adds.

While Amy is genuinely content with their intimate relationship, the idea that Sheldon might be wanting more sends a little thrill down her spine. It's best not to get her hopes up, so she swallows down the squeak of glee that wants to escape her throat and stuffs aside the urge to stand up and do a victory dance.

She's proud of how calm her voice sounds when she conjures up a mature reply. "If we decide it's not enough, then we can find a new arrangement that suits us better."

Reaching across the table to take hold of his hand, she feels her heart flutter with happiness at the growing grin on his face and the eager way that he squeezes her hand back. "But I meant what I said before," she continues. "I am not in a hurry. I have learned to enjoy every step of our journey."

* * *

—-

* * *

Notes:

All the Harry Potter references and quotes that were sprinkled throughout this chapter belong to JK Rowling, of course.

I don't know where the show is going to go with the coitus issue, but I tried to make it clear in this story why it doesn't necessarily matter. Even though this would make a decent ending point, I'm leaning towards continuing this little series. Thanks again to everyone for reading. Have a great holiday season!


	5. Chapter 5: Post-1012

Chapter 5, post-ep for 10.12, "The Holiday Summation": Compromise, Star Wars philosophy, and Southernisms—a brief continuation of Shamy's holiday in Texas.

Note: Part of this chapter is set during the flashbacks, so maybe I shouldn't call it a post-ep. Meh, it's close enough.

* * *

—

* * *

Sheldon is still rubbing his ear when his mom walks out of the room to answer her phone. Seated right next to him on the couch, it's easy for Amy to reach up and touch his upper back, and she hopes that the soft circles she traces there will be soothing for him. While she had expected this trip to have some difficulties, Sheldon deciding to get an ear piercing had never even crossed her mind.

With a cute little frown on his face, he looks at her and says, "I don't think I made a very good teenage rebel."

It's obvious, but she can't resist. "Maybe that's because you're well into your thirties."

His hand drops from his ear to land in his lap, and his frown grows to a pout. "And it seems that I was right to have skipped this teenage nonsense all those years ago. A few hours of it today has been more than enough."

She removes her hand from his back and takes ahold of his hand instead. Giving it a little squeeze, she says, "I understand the point that you were trying to make. There's nothing wrong with wanting your mother to think of you in a different way. You are not some pitiable, difficult child who's destined to be alone; you're a grown man with plenty of people who care about you. But I'm not so sure that rebelling like a kid was the best way to go about showing her how much you've grown up."

He tilts his head and squints at her. "You are able to recognize that, yet you persist in your belief that it was acceptable for you to speak to my mother on my behalf—to 'manage' the situation? That would require a significant degree of cognitive dissonance."

When he says it like that, there's not much that she can think of to justify herself. She sighs. "My intentions were good, and I do believe our relationship is a team effort where we should take into account our own individual strengths and weaknesses. But even so, I shouldn't have told your mother that we're living together, not without consulting you. I'm sorry."

Running a finger slowly along one of the defined muscles of his forearm, she adds, "You are a grown man… and no one knows that better than I do."

He has an intent look on his face as he nods, and she's pleased to see that his pout has vanished. When she leans a tiny bit closer, she sees him lick his lips and glance at her mouth. It's tempting to try to kiss him, but she knows that it is neither the right time nor the right place.

"I'm glad you understand," Sheldon whispers. Clearing his throat, he adds, "My mother, however, does not seem to have appreciated the ironic humor of my actions. I will need to approach this issue in a different manner."

She smiles at him. "An approach that won't involve making another hole in your head, perhaps?"

A smile begins to appear on his face too. "Indeed. And also one that won't involve wearing underwear on my head. In retrospect, that might have been a suboptimal plan."

"Might have been?" she asks, unable to stifle the sarcasm. "And I guess we're still ignoring the flippers. Okay."

"So it seems. As I spoke through the fly of my unmentionables earlier today, it occurred to me that there might be better ways to demonstrate that I'm no longer a child."

His mother returns to the room as he finishes speaking and says, "Shelly, I just got your old room all spruced up for you. I even put on your favorite old Spiderman bedsheets."

Amy watches her 'grown man' perk up with childish glee. He leaps up from his seat while Amy gets to her feet in a less maniacal fashion.

His blue eyes are opened wide with enthusiastic surprise. "Do you still have my Batman nightlight too?"

"Of course I do, darlin'. It's plugged right in where it used to be." She turns to Amy. "And I've got a room all fixed up for you too. How about I show you the way—"

"No." Sheldon's simple statement makes his mother fall silent. Amy is surprised not only by his interruption but also by how fast his previous excitement has been cast aside for a more serious demeanor.

Mary purses her lips and narrows her eyes. "What did you say to me, young man?"

He shifts his weight from foot to foot, but remains defiant. "No, ma'am. As we've told you, Amy and I share a living space. We will stay in my room together."

"Even if I were willing to allow such depravity in my home, your bed is far too small for two folks to share. Beyond that, I don't think your lady would care for your cartoonish bed linens."

Amy is pleased to see the indignant look on Sheldon's face. He crosses his arms and says, "Cartoons? Spiderman is a comic book character. He is from the world of graphic novels, not a mere cartoon! That's offensive, mother."

It seems that Sheldon has decided to pick a new battle. Comic books are not quite the focus that Amy would've expected their argument to take, but she has learned her lesson not to interfere. She's happy with her decision when she hears him continue.

"Besides, the bed that Amy and I always share is the exact same size. We can fold ourselves into a comfortable position on it just fine."

His mother's eyes bug out, making her look mildly scandalized. "I will not have the two of you canoodling in my house! You can sin when you get back to California where that kind of thing belongs."

"We will stay together while we are here, or we will go and 'sin' someplace else."

Amy can't hold her tongue any longer. "Sheldon!" While she appreciates his insistence that they share a bed, she is puzzled as to why he is provoking his mother on the sin issue. As much as she wants to avoid meddling again, she sees no reason that she can't at least offer her own opinion. She glances to Mary and says, "There isn't going to be any sinning in your home."

Sheldon flashes her a look of irritation, his eyebrows drawing closer together in a way that clues her in to his annoyance. She tries to give him a look of reassurance, but it seems unlikely that he will be able to read her expression anyway.

The angry set of Mary's eyebrows mirrors that of her son. Even though she continues to address his mother, Amy can't stop herself from casting numerous glances at Sheldon while she does so.

"I agree with Sheldon that we should continue to share a room while we are here." She sees his expression softens as she voices her support. "But keep in mind that we are adults, not randy teenagers, and we are both perfectly capable of sleeping in the same bed while still respecting your wishes."

"Is that so?" Mary's skepticism is clearly aimed at Sheldon, who nods at her in answer, though he is a bit slow at doing so. "You'd best not be lyin', either of you. Between your father and your siblings, bless their hearts, I've about heard it all. If bullcrap were sequins, I coulda sewed myself a gown a long time ago."

"We aren't like them," Sheldon says.

"We aren't much like anyone," Amy agrees. To her relief, both Coopers appear to be calming down. Sheldon takes her hand, a gesture that shows his solidarity.

Mary bobs her head and unfolds her crossed arms. "I suppose your suggestion is a fair compromise." She shifts her gaze back and forth between them. "The two of you seem quite dedicated to one another. It's easy for me to think of you as already married, but the Lord is not so easily fooled. Let's just say that He doesn't approve of folks who eat their supper before they've gone and said grace."

Amy has no interest in discussing the topic of marriage until Sheldon brings it up with her of his own volition. She feels nothing but relieved when Mary drops the subject.

"You're a …" Mary gesticulates with one hand, obviously searching for the right word before continuing, "unique pair—and I mean that in only the kindest way. Your… unusual qualities seem to line up very well together. Ya'll are like two one-legged ducks leaning together so's you don't both end up swimmin' in circles."

Having never been likened to a one-legged duck before, Amy's unsure of whether to take that as a compliment. She decides to assume that it is and then wonders if Sheldon inherited his compliment-giving skills from his mom. It would explain a lot.

Taking a few short steps over to them, Mary hugs her and then Sheldon. When she's done, she holds him at arm's length and says, "I'm proud of you for standin' up for yourself, son." She tilts her head and wrinkles her brow before adding, "You went about it in a way that had me thinkin' I should've had you tested again all those years ago. But I'm proud of you all the same."

* * *

—

* * *

Sheldon's bedroom feels much smaller to him with Amy in it. As a boy, it had felt huge and empty, despite his many collections. These days his mother has turned his old room into a tidy guest space and put most of his childhood mementos in the closet, but even so, it somehow feels cozy and full in a way that it never used to.

Shaking off his brief bout of sentimentality, he says, "It feels strange to have you here. I never thought that I would be sharing this place, much less sharing it with a girl."

Amy smiles as she puts away her things in the empty bureau. "I can't say I ever thought that I'd be sharing a boy's room either. It's interesting to get to see this part of your life and history."

There's plenty of his old stuff in the closet that he could show her. Sheldon wonders if there's a dignified way to brag about his action figure collection while still maintaining his prior stance on being considered an adult. Probably not.

Before he gets a chance to decide whether to do it anyway, Amy says, "It's been nice to get to know your mom better too. There are so many things about her that remind me of you."

Sheldon pauses in the act of putting his own clothing away and tries to remember how many glasses of wine Amy drank this evening. "Is this about to be your version of a bazinga prank?"

Finished putting away her things, Amy begins changing into her nightgown. "No, not at all. You're too close to the situation to see it, I suppose, but it's true. There are little mannerisms that you both share, certain habits and ways of speaking, and, um, let's just say that you both have a tendency to be strong-willed."

"You're not fooling me. I know that means stubborn." Speaking of feeling stubborn, as Sheldon catches sight of Amy undressing in his peripheral vision, he ponders one last act of rebellion. Alas, he's certain that she wouldn't be amenable. That's okay. He doesn't think he could bring himself to break his word to his mother anyhow. Refocusing on the topic at hand, he clears his throat and says, "My mother's fundamental belief system clashes with my scientific realities. It doesn't get much different than that."

She finishes pulling her nightgown down over her body before answering, "I don't know. Even when it comes to that, I think you are more alike than you might realize."

"Amy, did my mother get out the hard liquor for the two of you when I was in the other room washing dishes?"

"Sheldon, I'm not intoxicated. I'm serious. You both hold strong convictions. For her it's based in religion and for you it's all about science, but those are both just different ways to go about seeking answers to life's greatest questions."

No longer concerned about unpacking, Sheldon takes two steps over to her and feels her forehead. She's not feverish. Her pupils are the same size and there are no signs of facial drooping either, so a concussion or stroke seems improbable. "I'm not sick," she insists.

"Very well. If you wish to persist with this madness, evidence-based science—or as I like to call it, reality—should not be equated to the silly stories that people tell themselves about a man in the sky."

"I'm not equating them," she explains. "I'm pointing out that the underlying motivations that drive the two of you are similar despite the fact that you both go about your lives in very different ways."

Amy takes a seat on his bed—their bed—and gestures for him to sit next to her. Never opposed to a bit of philosophy before bedtime, he decides to hear her out. Besides, listening to his girlfriend prattle on and on about a random topic is one of his secret joys in life.

"My mother's blind belief in a deity baffles me," he admits.

"Maybe it would help to think of 'God' in a more abstract sense. As much as we discover about the world through science, what we find most often is a new set of questions. The vastness of space, the infinitesimal smallness of subatomic particles… there's always more knowledge that lies outside our limitations—including answers to questions that no one has even thought to ask. What if we define the term 'God' as the vastness of all knowledge that exists, including that which is far beyond our understanding?"

Her idea to redefine the concept sounds somewhat familiar. "Are you suggesting something like 'the Force' in Star Wars?"

Amy tilts her head. "Possibly. If it helps you keep an open mind, then sure."

"I have been dragged to my mother's church many times in my youth. I never got the impression that anyone there was in search of knowledge. If anything, they thought that they already knew it all."

"Not everyone has the same inclination or capacity for scientific study that you do. Some people, including your mom, find religion to be the best answer for them. If she finds comfort in it and her faith doesn't result in harm to anyone, there's no reason to think poorly of her for it."

He thinks it over. "Fine. That's fair. But I'm still not going to church, not even for Christmas."

They are sitting close enough together that he can feel the length of her arm pressing against his. She nudges his shoulder with her own. "I'm not suggesting otherwise. I just hope that you and your mother can come to respect one another's strongly held convictions."

"I see. Does that mean you are planning to give this same speech to my mother?"

Her eyes widen in response to his question. "Um, a philosophical discussion with your mom might prove to be a more difficult challenge."

There's no point in disagreeing with that. If anything, 'difficult' would be an understatement. He nods.

Taking ahold of his hand, she says, "I know that what your mom said to you earlier hurt your feelings. I doubt that her words came out in quite the way that she intended." Smirking, she adds, "And that's another thing that you should be able to relate to, by the way."

This time he is the one who nudges her shoulder. "It is possible that I sometimes phrase things in a less than optimal fashion."

"I've noticed that." Tipping her head to rest it against his upper arm, Amy smiles. "Anyway, despite her poor wording, I hope you understand what your mother's acceptance of our living situation means."

He has no clue what she's getting at. Fortunately, she wastes no time in telling him.

"It means that your happiness is so important to her, and she is so happy for you, that she is willing to look beyond her strongly-held religious tenets. Her religion is a part of her very identity, so that's no small thing."

The residual hurt of his mother's inadvertent slight fades away as he considers her words. "She should've tried saying it like that."

After a few seconds of silence, Amy gets to her feet and turns around with one hand outstretched in invitation. Curious, he follows her lead and gets to his feet. "Are we going somewhere?"

"Not far." She points the thumb of her free hand in the direction of his closet door. "If your mother kept those Spiderman sheets, then I'm sure there are some additional keepsakes from your childhood stashed around here somewhere. You were eyeing that closet with barely disguised glee when we first came in, so I'm guessing that we should start there."

* * *

—

* * *

Amy flops her weary body onto the sofa and closes her eyes. It feels so good to be home. Visiting her own family can be a trying experience, so she supposes she shouldn't have expected anything different from a visit to the Cooper family. There is nothing quite as exhausting as the strange mix of familial love and the clashing wills of family members. When it comes to his family, she was pleased to find that the love seemed to win out overall.

She can hear when Sheldon closes the door to their apartment. "I feel like I need a vacation after our vacation," she says. When he walks over and takes a seat beside her, she opens her eyes and spots a puzzled expression on his face. "What's wrong?"

As far as she can tell, he has been very happy to be home too. And he seemed to enjoy catching up with their friends at 4A as much as she did. She's not sure what could be troubling him.

"Amy, why did Leonard ask you for a recipe for juice? It is neither difficult to squeeze fruit nor is it difficult to buy a bottle of prepackaged juice at the store. I feel like I'm missing something. Your orange juice tasted funny, and I don't see why that would be considered 'magic'."

Uh-oh. Sitting up straight from her slouched position, she tries to think of how best to explain. "The answer to that is a little more complicated than you might think. What do you remember about planning our trip?"

He tips his head and furrows his brow. "Hmm. Well, I remember packing my suitcase and worrying about what to pack. Then I planned our route to the airport and felt nervous about the impending traffic. We ate cereal together and I wondered if I would get airsick on the plane. In the security line, I was unnerved by the unwashed masses removing their footwear. Oh, and at the gate, I remember worrying that our seats might be next to the lady with the barking cough or the baby with the squealing cry." He shrugs. "That's about it. Then I woke up in our rental car."

"Do you remember how I suggested you take some Dramamine so that you could avoid motion sickness and how it also had soporific effects that would help you relax?"

Looking proud of himself, he nods. "Of course. And I took your advice right before we got in line for the security check."

"Do you recall bringing grape juice and planning to drink it at the last minute to help stay hydrated during our travels?"

"Yes, but I ended up deciding to drink your orange juice instead. I didn't want to go through the TSA checkpoint with a purple tongue. They might've thought I was weird."

Amy sighs. "Yeah, we wouldn't have wanted anyone to think that." She clears her throat and adds, "Anyhow, while you have issues with anxiety regarding turbulence, motion sickness, and apparently all things travel-related, I sometimes have travel issues of my own."

Her issues, of course, are all about traveling with Sheldon in tow. As much as she loves him, he is not the easiest person to take on a plane. Jittery, anxious, and separated from the familiarity of his everyday routine, Sheldon on an airplane is not Sheldon at his best. Unsure of how to explain without hurting his feelings, she opts to remain vague.

Rubbing his knee with the palm of her hand, she continues her explanation. "Dramamine can work for you, but I find that a little alcohol before a flight works best for me. So I added a healthy amount to my container of juice before we left. Unfortunately, the drowsiness effects of your medication ended up being combined with the depressant effects of my alcoholic beverage. It wasn't dangerous or anything, but it was enough to make you fall asleep instead of just feeling drowsy."

The confused expression on his face relaxes he comes to understand what happened. "Oh. I knew that juice tasted funny! That's quite unfortunate."

"Don't worry. It was kind of an amusing accident, to be honest. You're cute when you drool, and your snoring was drowned out by the roar of the jet engines."

He still looks a bit concerned again when he meets her eyes. "I hope you were able to have a peaceable flight without the aid of your self-medication strategy."

With the love of her life calmly snoozing next to her, Amy had looked out the window and admired the passing scenery, all the while listening to music through the headphones attached to her iPhone.

She smiles to reassure him and because she can't hold it back. "It's okay, Sheldon. I managed just fine."

* * *

—

* * *

Notes:

This chapter attempted to tidy up a few things that I felt needed some additional resolution in the most recent episode. What'd you guys think? There are a couple of weird tangents in here too, but this is chapter 5, so you all must expect that kind of thing from me by now :)


	6. Chapter 6: Post-1013

Summary: "Why?"… "Why?"… "Oh, that's why." Starting after 10.08, "The Brain Bowl Incubation," this is a series of post episode stories to fill in some of the gaps of season 10. Each chapter is a stand-alone of sorts, so you don't need to read the earlier ones to understand this.

Chapter 6, post-ep for 10.13, "The Romance Recalibration": Some girl talk, some guy talk, and then Amy gets a Sheldon-style demonstration of Godzilla's unique qualities.

* * *

I.

* * *

When she sees the grateful smile on Bernadette's face, Penny knows that she and Amy have done the right thing by choosing to visit her during their lunch hour. More than a little nervous around babies, she is pleased to find out that Halley is taking a nap upstairs. While she wants to offer her friend some camaraderie and support, she would prefer to avoid any and all forms of potential baby goo while she's wearing her newest business suit.

The two of them help Bernadette gather beverages and utensils before sitting down and sorting out the takeout from the sandwich shop. "We got you chips and a cookie too," Amy says. "You're breastfeeding, so we figured you could use the additional calories."

"That and we feared post-pregnancy hormones might've made you even scarier than usual," Penny adds.

Bernadette does indeed look placated as Amy hands over the promised items. "Chips never hurt, whether chocolate or potato. Howard has learned that valuable lesson as well."

"So how are you? Is this whole motherhood thing getting any easier yet?" Penny asks.

"Not exactly. I suppose the sleep deprivation is starting to make everything seem like a blur, so I guess at least I've got that going for me."

She's not sure how to respond to that, and Amy's wrinkled brow indicates that she's unsure too. It's Amy that takes a shot at saying something. "I can't say that I know much about babies—"

"Even after close to seven years with Sheldon?" Penny interjects, unable to resist.

Amy frowns, but Bernadette smiles and says, "Having a baby is aggravating in a completely different way. But you know what? I don't want to waste this little chance to feel normal, so if you guys don't mind, I'd love to talk about something other than motherhood, the way that lactating makes me feel uncomfortably like a dairy cow, or the chafed state of my nipples."

The frown on Amy's face grows, and Penny suspects that she's wishing she'd chosen a beverage other than milk to go with her sandwich. Amused and wanting to watch her friend's face contort some more, she suggests, "We could talk about how Amy sang so loudly in the shower this morning that I could hear her from our own bathroom."

Sure enough, Amy's eyebrows rise. "Hey! That new Adele song is catchy."

"It is," Penny agrees. "And your rendition got even more special when Sheldon joined in and made it a duet."

Bernadette chuckles. "That must've been quite something to wake up to on a Monday morning."

"I know, right? Leonard says our bathrooms share a wall because of the way the plumbing runs in the building, so I get how I could hear Amy. But I'm surprised I could hear Sheldon from wherever he must've been."

When Amy starts rubbing her ear and looking anywhere other than at her friends, Penny begins to wonder why her friend is finding that part to be the most embarrassing aspect of the story. Then she has the sudden, uncomfortable thought that maybe Sheldon wasn't in a different room after all.

Before she gets a chance to be nosy about it, Amy's expression shifts into a smirk. "You know, I think Bernadette might be more interested to hear about how you and Leonard decided to take relationship advice from Sheldon this past weekend."

It seems Amy has decided that the best defense is a good offense. Penny sighs, uncomfortable now that it's her personal life on display.

"You mean on purpose?" Bernadette asks, raising an eyebrow in Penny's direction. "Were you drunk?"

"No, it was intentional and clear-headed, believe it or not." She takes a deep breath and explains, "You remember how I told you that Leonard has been sort of not giving a crap? Well that turned into a bit of a fight. Sheldon suggested we try using a Relationship Agreement, and we decided that it couldn't hurt."

"Wow, I'm surprised you guys were interested in trying something like that."

Penny nods. "I know. I guess sometimes I find it difficult to talk about stuff. Leonard gets defensive whenever I do, and an argument can spiral out of control so easily. I've always felt a lot of passion and intensity between us, and while I love that, it's something that can make disagreements so much worse."

Setting down her sandwich, Amy looks at her with sympathy. "I totally understand—you know, seeing as how my relationship with Sheldon is so intense and passionate as well."

Nearly choking on her sip of soda, Penny starts to wonder what brain-altering substance Amy might've been cooking up in her lab this morning. She can't be serious. Unable to think of a way to ask 'what the hell' that isn't rude, she is relieved when Bernadette tips her head and asks, "Are you sure those are the descriptors that best suit you guys?"

"Well maybe not when we first started dating, but things are different now." Turning to address an unconvinced Penny, Amy adds, "Anyway, even though a Relationship Agreement can help smooth out certain communication issues, I think you'll find that unforeseen or spontaneous matters will continue to come up. So don't worry, you'll still get the chance to feel like your impulsive selves."

"I wouldn't have thought you'd be able to appreciate the impulsiveness or passionate aspects of a relationship, much less be able to relate to them," Penny says, still skeptical.

Amy frowns. "Have you forgotten the goodbye kiss he and I shared before we left for the spa? Was that not a passionate delight?"

As far as Penny is concerned, it was not. She decides to be more tactful and instead says, "I don't know that 'passionate' is the word I would choose, but maybe that kind of thing is in the eye of the beholder. And I guess it could count as spontaneous." She narrows her eyes, reconsidering, and adds, "You know, it also wouldn't surprise me if you guys had goodbye kisses in your weird little agreement."

Amy shrugs, taking a big bite of her sandwich. It doesn't look like she intends to offer any additional relationship wisdom.

Bernadette takes a break from munching on a potato chip. "I think what's most important for you and Leonard is that you both want to make each other happy."

Penny can't disagree with that. Amy nods too.

Bernadette continues, "And if it takes having your own weird little agreement written out, then so be it. In fact, I think your willingness to try out a contract crafted by Sheldon is a good sign. It shows that you're both willing to do frakkin' anything to make it work."

Amy squints and looks puzzled. "Frakkin'?"

"Howard binge-watched a bunch of _Battlestar Galactica_ reruns during his paternity leave."

Having been subjected to the occasional sci-fi marathon, Penny completely understands, and she knows that Amy has faced the same fate.

"Oh, of course," says Amy.

"That sounds pretty frakkin' familiar," Penny agrees.

—

* * *

II.

* * *

Despite the lackluster offerings of the Caltech cafeteria, Leonard almost always enjoys eating lunch with his friends at work. Their conversations tend to be both unpredictable and interesting. Just the other day, for example, a fierce debate had ensued when they discussed whether it would be better to fight one-hundred duck-sized horses or one horse-sized duck.

Today's conversation is not looking so promising. First they had to listen to Sheldon talk at length about his most recent trip to the train store, and now he has gone and brought up Leonard's marital troubles.

"Dude, a Relationship Agreement?" says Raj, after his former roommate finishes spilling the news. "I thought only odd couples like Sheldon and Amy were suitable for that kind of thing."

Sheldon stops poking at the remainder of his mashed potatoes and glares at Raj. "Considering the state of your love life, do you really think you ought to be name-calling or otherwise judging anyone else's boy-girl relationship?"

Raj looks chastened, but Howard perks up and says, "I don't know. I think it might be reasonable to judge a man in his thirties who still uses the phrase 'boy-girl relationship'."

Deciding it's best to get back to Raj's original question, Leonard says, "I used to find the entire concept of a written agreement like that to be crazy, but that was back before those two started to resemble a real couple. Though it took many, many years, Sheldon now actually makes a woman happy." He pauses, trying to let the idea sink in. "Sheldon Cooper, of all people. It's like this impossible feat, and if a relationship contract helped get someone like him into a good relationship, I think it makes sense to reevaluate my previous opposition to it."

While both Howard and Raj shrug, Sheldon objects, "Good? You need a better superlative."

Getting back to eating his lunch, Leonard sees the other guys doing the same thing. They must be able to recognize the tone of voice and the mannerisms that precede a Sheldon-style soliloquy just as well as he can.

"My relationship with Amy is exceptional, thank you very much, and it is improving all the time. For instance, I have recently been attempting to better myself by showing interest in other people's lives, and—"

"Wait, seriously?" says Howard, speaking with his mouth half-full of food. "Did Amy hack into your mainframe and upload some new code this past weekend?"

Raj looks equally perplexed. Leonard can't blame either of them. He's not sure if it's more surprising that Sheldon is willing to admit he needs to improve at something or that the thing he is trying to improve at might benefit others.

Sheldon scoffs. "Of course not. I'm not a robot, and this was my own decision. I will admit that showing interest in others is something Amy has suggested I work on, but she's often right about this kind of interpersonal nonsense."

That sounds more like the Sheldon they're all used to. Though he knows he may regret it, Leonard can't stop himself from asking, "Why are you suddenly so interested in being not only a passable human, but also a considerate one?"

"It's part of my larger effort to be superior in all things. Having experienced a breakup with Amy in the past, I have no intention of going through any sort of similar failure in the future. To this end, studying various aspects of interpersonal dynamics has seemed like the best course of action. And as it turns out, people do seem happier when someone is willing to listen to them jabber on about themselves."

"I'm definitely familiar with someone who likes to talk about himself and his own interests a lot," says Raj, no doubt referring to Sheldon's earlier spiel about trains. "In fact, I've experienced it very recently."

"Well now that's a bit rude," says Sheldon. He glances over at Leonard, and then leans towards Raj. With a half-whisper that anyone could still easily hear, he continues, "You shouldn't say that about Leonard and his relationship woes. He's sitting right there." Back to speaking at a normal volume, he finishes, "While I understand the theoretical benefits, it's not always easy to act interested when someone is going on and on about something boring or self-centered."

Annoyed but not surprised by his friend's level of cluelessness, Leonard says, "You know, I've noticed that too."

Howard smirks. "Yeah, I think we're all quite used to that."

"I suppose some people are simply oblivious in social situations," Sheldon admits, shaking his head as if pitying whoever those poor folks might be. "Anyhow, I'm hoping that Amy will appreciate my various efforts at self-improvement. I don't want to end up with any relationship disasters such as the ones Leonard often experiences."

"Some people are socially oblivious; you've got that part right," Leonard mumbles.

Apparently unfazed by the interruption, Sheldon continues, "For example, being impulsive when it comes to something as important as marriage seems unwise. I intend to prove to Amy that I will make a good husband before I even broach that topic."

"It's not like there's any chance she'd turn down a proposal," says Howard. "After what, 6 or 7 years? I think the girl knows what she's in for, and she's been all aboard your crazy train pretty much the whole time."

Back to poking at his mashed potatoes, Sheldon looks uncertain. "Sometimes my brilliance is a curse. I remember exactly what Amy said when she first found out about the ring from Meemaw." Doing a terrible impression of a high-pitched girly voice, he squeaks, "'Who said I even want to be engaged to him?'"

Sympathy for his friend begins to creep in, replacing most of Leonard's previous feelings of annoyance. "I didn't know she'd said that. But I bet she was probably just hurt by the fact that your Meemaw didn't like her. That kind of thing can make someone lash out in ways they don't really mean. She has seemed very happy living with you, and I think she'd be happy to marry you."

"Perhaps, but her initial lack of enthusiasm at the idea still seems like cause for concern, and there's no reason to rush and leave anything to chance."

"Being spontaneous and impulsive can be romantic," says Raj. "You might not want to plan things too much."

Sheldon looks confused. "Who said anything about romance? Marriage is a restrictive contract, a delight far surpassing the whimsical notion of romance."

"She's such a lucky girl," Howard jokes.

As ever, the sarcasm flies over Sheldon's head. He nods and says, "Indeed. I'm a great catch. At this point I simply want to make sure Amy is fully aware of that before I let her finish reeling me in."

—

* * *

III.

* * *

Doing laundry on a Monday night feels completely unnatural to Sheldon. His impromptu weekend away at the spa has thrown his normal schedule off-kilter, forcing him to deal with his dirty duds a full two days late.

He carefully folds his t-shirts while Amy makes a tidy stack of finished towels on the table next to him. She works with brisk, efficient movements, appropriately respectful of proper laundry protocol.

"Amy, this chore is the final item on our catch-up list, and I must say, that thought is far more relaxing than anything that spa could have ever offered me."

"Well you did at least seem to enjoy writing up that contract for Leonard and Penny while we were there. How did that turn out, anyhow? Did you find it awkward to work on an agreement for another couple's relationship?"

"I found whipping up a contract to be a simple enough task. Their priorities struck me as a bit odd, though. For instance, why would Penny ever say she's fine when she's not? I always let people know when I'm not fine."

For some reason, that makes her smile. "Yes, I've noticed that about you."

"And then there was the matter of Leonard slouching around in his underwear, apparently making a mess of himself and putting my spot at risk of crumbs. How does one need to be told that such behavior is unattractive?"

She shrugs. "I suppose every couple has their own unique challenges."

Finished with their respective items, they each tuck things back into the two baskets they brought down. As they begin to make their way up five flights of stairs, Amy continues their previous conversation.

"I'm surprised they asked you to write things out instead of doing it themselves. I don't think I'd want any of our friends to be so involved in our relationship like that. It's too personal."

Sheldon wrinkles his nose at the thought. "I wouldn't want that either. I'm sure they just wanted to take advantage of my expertise in contractual matters, but I hope they will be able to handle future updates on their own. I don't want to have to describe or otherwise bring to mind Leonard's pasty little thighs ever again."

By the fourth flight of stairs, the heavy basket of clothes is slowing him down. Ahead of him by a few steps, Amy is beginning to slow down too. "It was kind of you to help them," she says. "They may find that having a written agreement is too restrictive, but for the time being it might help them communicate a bit better."

"They're good friends to both of us. I want them to be happy, and I can't deny that I have a special fondness for a well-written contract. It gave me something fun to do at the spa."

Balancing her basket on her left hip, Amy uses her free hand to unlock and push open their door. "You know, most people opt for facials, pedicures, or massages to enjoy themselves when they're at a nice resort like that one."

Sheldon follows her inside their apartment and closes the door behind him. "Who needs a muddy face pack or to be kneaded like bread dough by a scary stranger when there is a contract to be made? And don't even get me started on pedicures. No one's touching my feet, not a chance."

"I've touched your feet."

"Yes, but that doesn't count. You have special privileges. Anyone else will receive a prompt kicking."

He enters their bedroom and sets his basket on the bed. Amy follows suit, plopping her basket on her dresser instead. "You know, all of that time spent writing out an agreement for our friends meant that you never did get a chance to show me your Godzilla impression. I'm sad to say that I remain ignorant about how that giant lizard would go about taking a shower."

Even though they share the bathroom to get ready in the morning almost every day, other than an incidental glimpse upon entering and exiting the shower, bathing has remained a largely private activity. At this point in their relationship, though, he's not at all bothered by the idea of her watching him.

"Well this must be your lucky day, because I took the liberty of bringing several of those mini shampoo bottles home with me."

"Oh," she whispers. After a slow flip of her hair, she bites her lip. "Well, um… I will be looking forward to that."

The idea of a shower is appealing to him and so is the thought of playing a little game. "Godzilla isn't really the patient sort, Amy. It wouldn't be appropriate to wait."

Her eyebrows rise in unison, and he wonders why she seems surprised.

Sheldon continues to explain, "He's not so much a hero or a villain as he is a destructive and chaotic force all his own. As such, he'd never bow to our silly human whims and shower at a time of our convenience."

"I see. So you're, um… suggesting that this might happen right now?"

The temptation to put away the laundry first is strong, but he doesn't think that Godzilla would be concerned about tidiness either. He shakes off the twitchy feeling that comes from procrastinating that task.

"Chaos waits for no man." Opening the top drawer of his dresser, Sheldon retrieves a piece of candy he has stashed away there. He shows it to her and says, "This is an atomic fireball. From the very beginning, Godzilla's signature weapon has always been his atomic breath. We don't want any permanent destruction, so this will have to suffice."

"Ok, sure."

He pops it out of the wrapper and into his mouth. Moving up close to Amy, he breathes his fire-breath near her ear and warns, "You may want to step back for this next bit."

Her cheeks are turning a bright shade of pink, and he sees a wide-eyed Amy heed his advice and step away from his path to the bathroom. Tipping his head back, Sheldon does his best impression of the classic Godzilla roar. Hunching his shoulders to mimic a beast-like posture, he stomps his way into the bathroom, kicking off his shoes and yanking both of his shirts off as he goes. He leaves a sloppy trail of clothes and shoes in his wake.

Inside the bathroom, he claws aside the shower curtain and jabs at the taps to get the water flowing. In his peripheral vision, he can see a cautious Amy peeking around the doorframe. There's only one thing to do.

He roars at her and starts pulling off his pants. Neither the roar nor the dropping of pants scares her away. In fact rather than being deterred, she steps closer and crosses the threshold into the room.

Once he's fully unclothed, he stomps over the edge of the tub wall, trying to balance the need for authentic destruction with the need for proper shower safety. Adhesive ducks provide traction, so Godzilla-Sheldon feels free to get back to causing mayhem. He flails and knocks over their everyday toiletries, causing containers of shampoo, conditioner, and body wash to go flying. Since the shower curtain remains open, his wild movements spray water out into the room, and Amy has moved up close enough that he can see some of the splashes land on her shirt as well as her glasses.

A brave observer, she holds out one of the tiny bottles of shampoo that he had left on the bathroom countertop, and Godzilla-Sheldon swipes it out of her hand. He roars his thanks.

Too strong of a squeeze leaves a large puddle of shampoo in his hand, but he throws the bottle aside and slaps his hand to his head anyway. No monster would ever care about using too much shampoo. Gobs of white foam start raining down as he lathers up, and he has to close his eyes to keep the suds from blinding him.

After a quick rinse of his face it's safe to open his eyes again, and he notices that Amy is closer than ever. He leans his head near hers and breathes hot, cinnamon-scented 'atomic' breath at her. She smiles.

Sheldon straightens his shoulders from his monstrous posture and smiles back at her. "Well, what did you think?"

She looks him over from half-rinsed head to soapy toes and says, "Very nice. That was… quite a display."

"This was hot," he says, referring to the the burning cinnamon candy in his mouth. He removes what's left of it from off of his tongue, setting it on the edge of the tub to throw away later. Godzilla may be a reckless slob, but Sheldon is not.

"Oh, it was definitely hot," Amy agrees.

Even though he's no longer Godzilla at the moment, he notices that she continues to stare at him while he rinses the rest of the shampoo off. When he's finished, she says, "As much as I enjoyed the sight, don't you think that a creature of the sea like Godzilla would just take a bath in the ocean instead of using a shower?"

Sheldon frowns. "I don't think Godzilla would care for that level of pedantic nitpicking, Dr. Fowler." He reaches out a wet hand and pokes her nose. "Fortunately for you, I enjoy that kind of thing very much, so a bath it shall be."

He turns off the shower head and plugs the drain, allowing the tub to start filling up with warm water.

"I, um, guess I should go now," Amy says, pointing her thumb at the door.

"But why would you do that? I just showed you how it's done. Don't you want a turn to play in the water like a monster?" He sits down in the shallow water of the tub and flicks some of it at her with his fingertips. "Besides, you're already wet."

She hesitates and then says, "Okay, but you're—you're staying there too?"

"Of course," he says, thinking that it should be obvious. "I'm still going to be Godzilla. You'll need to play another role."

"I'm not sure how I would fit into a Godzilla narrative, much less that tub. I know you don't want to be anything less than accurate and authentic to a sci-fi franchise. Are you sure you want me to join you?"

He's surprised that she would worry about him rejecting her in this—or in anything, for that matter. "Of course I want you to. Don't be absurd. You clipped your toenails before bed last week when I was in the same room. If I were ever going to reject you for anything, it would've been then."

"How romantic…" she murmurs. Her eyebrows are furrowed, but he can't read the expression on her face.

By his estimate, there's about a fifty percent chance that was sarcasm, so Sheldon opts to ignore it. "Anyway, there have been many additional monsters associated with the Godzilla franchise over the years. Join me and I'll tell you all about one of them."

She gives him a slow nod and begins to undress. He decides not to make her wait to enjoy the pleasure of his explanation of the backstory. "In addition to all the films that were made, there have been others that were planned but unmade for various reasons. One of these happened in 1956, and it contained a character with the unofficial name of Robomusume."

A topless Amy pauses in the act of removing her skirt and raises an eyebrow. "I'm a robot?"

He nods and turns off the water. "Since she was a character who never made it onscreen, you won't have to worry about playing the part incorrectly. From the movie's plan, though, we do know a few things. She was a giant, human-looking robot that was modeled after her creator's daughter. This creator made her to protect Japan from a group of of giant monsters."

Amy sits on the edge of the tub and finishes removing her tights. "Ok."

"After defeating several of them, she finds herself doing battle with the last one—Godzilla." He traces a wet finger down the soft skin on the back of her upper arm, an action that causes her to shiver. "Despite the seemingly impossible odds, Godzilla falls in love with her."

The name of the unmade movie was _Bride of Godzilla_ , but Sheldon decides not to share that part. Though he fully intends for Amy to be his human bride someday, it's not a topic he wants to bring up just yet. He also decides not to explain the rest of the plot, the part where Robomusume lures Godzilla back to his ecosystem and destroys them both with the hydrogen bomb she contains. That doesn't seem applicable to their situation.

Instead of adding any further details, he scoots to one end of the tub to make a tiny, Amy-sized space. She carefully takes a seat in front of him, and he wraps an arm around her, enjoying the feeling of her warm back pressing up against his chest. She twists her body and contorts her neck far enough to look him in the eye and says, "This doesn't quite represent the vast open space of the sea. I'm not so sure that we have room to play at any sort of battle in here. "

"That's okay. Robomusume is immune to Godzilla's atomic breath, leaving him relatively helpless. I would just lose anyway."

"Well that's good to know." She twists a bit farther and places a quick kiss on his lips. "You're right. Your atomic breath just smells like cinnamon to me. But whatever shall we do if we can't have a monstrous fight?"

He hugs her tighter and roars a softer, gentler Godzilla sound against her neck. "However unusual it may be, I guess we're left with no choice but to fall in love."

* * *

—


	7. Chapter 7: Post-1015

Summary: "Why?"… "Why?"… "Oh, that's why." Starting after 10.08, "The Brain Bowl Incubation," this is a series of post episode stories to fill in some of the gaps of season 10. Each chapter is a stand-alone of sorts, so you don't need to read the earlier ones to understand this.

Chapter 7, post-ep for 10.15, "The Locomotion Reverberation": Sheldon and Amy's trip to the Nevada Northern Railway doesn't quite turn out to be the hot, steamy experience that she had envisioned.

—-

* * *

I.

* * *

Amy glances around the small area that makes up her and Sheldon's lodging accommodations for the weekend. The old caboose is narrow, but it's long enough to contain sleeping space for three single-sized beds, two at one end of the car and one at the other. The steel walls and doors are painted white, and the old wooden floor completes the overall hard, bleak feel of the place.

"Isn't she beautiful?" Sheldon exclaims. "And to think, we get to sleep in her!"

She can see a wide smile on his face as he sets his suitcase on one of the beds. Considerably less enthused, Amy wonders if it's irrational of her to be jealous of a train car. It seems like it must be.

A well-tanned young man has shown them the way, and he scratches the back of his neck as he says, "Like I said earlier, caboose #22 is still on the active roster and used for freight. It's not hooked up to any kind of utilities, so there's no running water, heat, or electricity. The creature comforts are limited, to say the least."

Sheldon has had a dreamy look on his face for the entirety of their trip thus far, and the worker's warning doesn't appear to dim his enthusiasm at all. "It's perfect," he says, "an authentic railway experience in every way! Just think of all the conductors and brakemen who have used this very room over the years. Modern comforts are a small price to pay for such a treat."

She's not sure how he can speak so fondly of this old metal box. To Amy it more or less reminds her of a walk-in cooler. Several of the Nevada Northern Railway employees have tried to talk Sheldon out of his plan to sleep in the caboose on these February nights, and while she is thankful for their efforts, they've not yet managed to sway him even a little bit. Her attempts to express similar concerns have only been met with his repeated insistence that they will be fine and that he will make sure she's warm and comfortable. She has no idea how he intends to keep such a promise.

Their sandy-haired guide attempts to reason with him one final time. "Sir, I highly recommend that the two of you reconsider. Our bunkhouse is a more comfortable option at this time of year. This is a desert-like area, but don't make the mistake of assuming that a desert equals warmth. Freezing temperatures overnight are the norm in winter."

As far as she can tell, Sheldon is only half-listening at best. Most of his attention is focused on the small structure above them, a windowed projection that sticks out from the roof. He climbs up to sit in the high seat that is designed to provide a lookout point.

With a huge grin on his face, he spares a brief glance over at her. "Amy, it's the cupola! Crew members could sit in this perch to inspect and oversee the whole train from an elevated position."

"Um, that's very nice, Sheldon." Turning to address the poor guy who has tried to talk her beloved genius out of his ridiculous plan, she says, "I appreciate your advice, but as you can see, he's quite set on sleeping right here."

"Yes, I see. If—or should I say when—the two of you change your minds, the bunkhouse is right nearby and equipped with plenty of modern conveniences. That's also where the showers and restrooms are are for those who decide to stay out here." He sighs before adding, "Sleeping in the caboose is tons of fun for dedicated railway enthusiasts, but even the most fanatical of them don't attempt it in February."

"Excuse me, are you questioning my fanaticism?" Sheldon calls down from his perch in the cupola. "I assure you that my dedication goes far beyond that of your average visitor, and I have no intention of squandering this opportunity. I've been destined to come to a place like this from the moment I could first form the words to say 'chugga-chugga choo-choo!' "

The man shrugs. "Yeah, okay. Suit yourself, sir."

Amy walks over to the door to see him out. As he leaves, he says, "You may want to consider leaving your husband to his own devices out here, ma'am."

"He's not my husband." It's the simple truth, but admitting it stings nonetheless. "But we are in this together, for better or worse."

"Oh." He raises both eyebrows. "Well, whatever you want to call him… good luck to you and him both. It's gonna be a cold one tonight."

—

* * *

II.

* * *

The unconnected caboose rests unmoving against the railroad track, but Sheldon is in motion nonetheless, rocked by the rhythmic, jostling movements of his bed partner. Naked and pressed up tightly together in a shared single bed, they shake in unison.

Becoming an engineer and getting to operate a real train has been like a dream come true for him. Sharing the experience with Amy has only served to make it all the more fun. She's not as much of a train enthusiast as he is, of course, but she did seem appropriately enthralled when she was watching him work the machinery to run the steam engine earlier in the day.

Her face is resting near the crook of his neck, her warm breath a welcome breeze against his chest. The warmth of her bare skin along the full length of his body is more than welcome as well. Sheldon is tired from his long day of manual labor, and he is eager to fall asleep. Even so, he is determined to make sure that this trip is as good for Amy as it is for him. He hugs her tighter and resolves to double his efforts at making that happen.

Tomorrow she'll get to have the pleasure of watching him operate a diesel locomotive. She hasn't seemed all that interested in his detailed explanations of train facts, though. Perhaps he ought to try regaling her with tidbits about the history of the time period in which the Nevada Railway was founded. She does tend to be fond of early 1900's American history.

Amy lifts her head back and looks at him with squinty eyes. Her voice sounds hoarse and shaky when she says, "You're thinking about trains, aren't you? Even now…"

"We're occupying an honest-to-goodness, still-in-use, 40-year-old caboose. Of course I'm thinking about trains."

She tilts her head and pulls back further, allowing a chilly burst of air to sweep in between their bare chests, invading their little cocoon. With a flick of her hand she gestures down the length of their still-shaking bodies. "How is that even possible under these circumstances?"

Her question is perplexing. After all, what else would one think about when enjoying the ambience of their current surroundings?

Very slowly, he repeats himself, "Because we're on a train."

Perhaps the freezing cold of their room is slowing down her synapses. Her whole body is still shivering against his, not that he is faring any better. Their plan to conserve and share body heat through skin-to-skin contact has been helping, but there's no denying the uncomfortable temperature of their sleeping quarters.

He's never been in such close contact with her naked body before in a situation that is so utterly devoid of any sexual context. Comfortable as he is around her, it doesn't bother him at all. He hopes that it isn't troubling for her either, and he suspects that it isn't. She is the pragmatic sort, after all.

"I know very well that we're on a train, Sheldon!" Every word she speaks is accompanied by a steamy cloud of breath, the bursts of vapor clearly visible even in the meager light provided by their battery-powered lantern. She burrows her face against his neck again, and he tucks their little mound of blankets back up around her shoulders to help block out some of the chill. She mumbles the rest of her words against his skin, "This was a terrible idea. It's like trying to sleep in an icebox."

As if to prove her point, she presses her icy-cold nose against the sensitive skin below his ear. Sheldon can't hold back a reflexive squeak. That doesn't seem to be enough to satisfy her, and he supposes she's continuing to make her point when she wiggles her legs and contorts to press her popsicle-like feet against his calves. He shrieks again, even louder than before.

Once he recovers from the shock, he tries to think of a response. Thinking about trains has helped to distract him from the cold so far. Maybe it could help her too. "This railroad car has been in service for over 40 years. If decades of intrepid folks have managed to tough out the harsh conditions, surely we can do the same. It will be—"

"Let me guess: 'an authentic railway experience'."

"Well, yes…" She took the words right out of his mouth, but for some reason it doesn't sound all that sincere when she says it. It must be the sound of her chattering teeth that is making her voice come out weird. Deciding to try out a different approach, he adds, "And many people would no doubt find an experience such as this to be romantic."

"My brain's not frozen enough to talk myself into believing that. There's nothing romantic about losing feeling in one's toes."

"You're just being impatient. I can feel myself warming up with every moment that passes."

It's true. Thoughts of trains and the combined heat of their bodies has been helping him a lot. Sheldon starts running his hands up and down her back, using a brisk motion that he hopes will generate some friction and speed up the process of thawing her out. "Here we are," he continues, "out on our own, a couple facing difficult circumstances and fending off nature in the pursuit of adventure. Plus there's trains. If that's not romance, I don't know what is."

She tilts her head back far enough that he can see her wrinkled brow. "The next time we go on a trip somewhere, I'm choosing the destination. And don't even think about complaining about it."

It'll probably involve knitting, crafting, or pesky relatives, but Sheldon figures he ought to concede before she might be tempted to warm her chilly extremities on any other sensitive regions of his body. "Very well."

After a few minutes of silence, he is beginning to feel sleepier, lulled by his own rhythmic stroking of Amy's back. She has stopped shivering, but he has yet to hear the whistling, snorting sounds of her snoring.

Sure enough, she soon whispers, "I can't sleep."

"Perhaps a soothing lullaby might help."

He can feel her gentle nod against his chest, so he ponders what tune would be most appropriate. Only one song comes to mind.

Sheldon clears his throat and begins to sing in a whisper-soft voice, "'I've been working on the railroad, all the live long day. I've been working on the railroad, just to pass the time away. Can't you hear the whistle blowing? Rise up so early in the morn'…'"

Amy pulls the covers up over her head before he has a chance to finish the entire song. He's not sure if she'll even be able to hear him under there. Oh well. She must be feeling cold still. All out of brilliant ideas, he settles for squeezing her in a little hug before resuming the long strokes of his hands along her back.

—

* * *

III.

* * *

Two days later, Amy is proud of both herself and Sheldon for having slept in the caboose for the entirety of their three-night stay. As promised, he had done his best to find a way to keep her warm each night, and it was the persistent sweetness of his attempts to help her that had warmed her more than anything. Well, his hot, lanky body may have had something to do with it too.

A four-hour drive to the Las Vegas airport to catch their early morning flight forces her to drag herself out of bed long before sunrise. She has to poke Sheldon several times to keep him moving, and his eyes are still half-closed when he finally folds himself into the passenger seat.

It would've made far more sense to drive the entire way, but flying to the halfway point via Las Vegas has had the significant benefit of forcing a set end date to their trip. Who knows how long Sheldon would've tried to stay here otherwise.

All in all, Amy has to admit to herself that she's had a nice time. The historical nature of the site appealed to her love of history, and the museum itself had been fun to peruse. Though she'll never quite understand his unnatural love of trains, seeing Sheldon's unbridled joy as he immersed himself in that world had been enough to make her happy too.

Beyond that, watching him engage in such physically strenuous work had provided a bit of an additional thrill, piquing her more prurient interests, as it were. Sweaty, dirty, and unshaven, his normally boyish face had taken on an undeniably more masculine look. His physical strength had both surprised and impressed her. Needless to say, she had ended up taking a lot of pictures for future reminiscence, and she will no longer think of his train hobby as being childish. Still boring, sure, but not childish.

About an hour or so into their drive, Amy pulls the car over to the side of the road. A few stray clouds on this otherwise clear night have blocked out some of the light of the moon, making this the perfect time to carry out her secret plan.

Sheldon's head jerks up when the car comes to a full stop. "What's going on? Why are we stopped?" he asks, his voice a sleepy murmur.

"This is one quick and final stop on our adventure. You got to pick the bulk of our itinerary, but this last piece is mine," she explains. "Come on, we're getting out."

"But we're in the middle of nowhere. It's pitch-black out there."

She nods. "That's the idea. We're far enough from any cities or towns that the sky will look unlike anything we're used to. I'm going to take advantage of that and take a little peek at the cosmos."

The science of astronomy is something that she knows he respects. As such, she isn't too surprised when he perks up and says, "I suppose we're about as acclimated to the cold as we're ever going to be." He opens his door a crack, but turns back to her before getting out. "Does this count as your turn to pick our next trip?"

"No. But I guess you can add something small to the itinerary of whatever I end up choosing."

He looks pleased at the idea and gets out of the car with a small smile on his face. Amy flips off the headlights and reaches into the backseat to grab her backpack.

When she shuts the car door behind her, the interior light goes off, plunging them into complete darkness. The sky above and around them looks dizzyingly huge, containing far more stars than she has ever seen before with nothing but her own eyes to aid her.

She feels her way along the front bumper of the car to where she knows Sheldon is standing. As her eyes adjust to the darkness, it becomes easier to make out a bit of his face in the starlight.

"Wow," he says, an understatement that matches her own feelings on the subject. "That foggy strip of light—that's the Milky Way."

"It's amazing to look up and see into the far reaches of our galaxy. That's not exactly something we get to see in a Los Angeles area night sky."

He brushes her hand with his own. "I'm feeling rather small."

Amy smiles. "That's because we are small—infinitesimal specks with respect to the size of our universe." She points to direct his attention to another spot above. "If you look here, you can just make out a smudgy looking star."

Ever the know-it-all, he exclaims, "Andromeda! Our galactic neighbor."

"At two-and-a-half-million light-years away, that galaxy is the most distant object we can see with the naked eye."

"I'm an accomplished physicist, and it's still stunning to look at that and think about how the light we're seeing is over two-million years old. That light left Andromeda before any Homo Sapiens even roamed Earth."

A know-it-all herself, Amy can't resist adding, "Not only before the first of our species, but also before the first of our genus."

It's hard to tear her eyes away from the sky, but she wants to get a better look at the night's celestial offerings, so she rummages blindly into her backpack until she feels the hard shape of the powerful little telescope she has brought with her. "Sheldon, I need the light of your phone to put this together."

"You came prepared," he says, sounding proud.

"Of course. Girl Sprouts are always prepared."

"Girl Sprouts? Don't you mean Scouts?"

"No," she says, not wanting to talk about her unusual childhood at the moment. "Ask my mother about it sometime," she adds, knowing that he never will. That suggestion should thwart any further questions for the time being.

He hits the flashlight app button, and Amy quickly unfolds a small tripod and mounts her telescope on top of it. It's a simple matter to pick out the constellations and use them to orient herself. After a few minutes of maneuvering, she steps back and gestures for Sheldon to have a look.

"Is that a comet?" he asks.

"Yes. That's why I chose to drag you out stargazing in the early morning hours like this instead of during a more reasonable hour in the evening." It's always fun to lecture about a scientific subject, and she knows that Sheldon will appreciate it in ways that most others never could. As such, she doesn't try to stifle the urge to prattle on with the facts that she knows. "You're looking at comet 45P. It was at its closest point to Earth two days ago, a mere 7 million miles away. Needless to say, it's still easy to spot. It's a bit less bright than forecast, but it does have an interesting green hue to it."

Pulling away from the eyepiece, he turns his head towards her. "Make sure you're careful not to voice this kind of sexy talk in front of an astrophysicist like Raj. The poor guy has been unlucky enough in love as it is. We wouldn't want him to suffer the unfortunate pangs of jealousy."

If it were anyone but her Sheldon, she'd be certain that she was being made the butt of a joke. With him, however, she has no doubt at all that he's being serious, silly though it may be. "I'll try to save most of my 'sexy talk' just for you," she promises.

"What's the orbital period for this comet?" he asks, making her wonder if he is trying to steer her back to what he considers 'sexy talk'. It's a compelling thought. She has to consciously stuff her musings aside to concentrate on an answer.

"It's about five-and-a-half years, which is obviously quite short by comet standards. The more famous Halley's Comet won't be back until 2061, and even though it comes around every 75 years or so, that's considered a short-period comet as well. Both lengths of time are rather long by people standards, though, I suppose."

"I know I've changed a lot in a mere five years," he admits. "And imagine five years from now. We'll probably have a child by then, more or less annihilating our current lifestyle and rendering it unrecognizable."

Every once in a while, Amy finds herself feeling frustrated by the slow pace of their relationship. She knows that he has had a ring for some time now, and the fact that he hasn't chosen to give it to her—or even so much as mention the topic—tends to cause insecurity to creep up on her more often than she'd like.

And then there are times when he goes and says something like this. His sudden, out-of-the-blue mention of their future together stuns her into temporary silence. There's a definite assumption of commitment in what he has said. It's in no way a sappy or dramatic declaration, but the subtle certainty in his voice means far more to her than any flowery language ever could.

Her sweet, oblivious baboo doesn't seem to notice her state of shock. In fact, he casually continues his previous train of thought. "And by 2061? I bet we'll be wrinkly, grey-haired old grandparents by then. I don't know about you, but I know I look forward to wielding a cane and telling the world's young people how wrong they are about everything."

She has to swallow down a lump of emotion that clogs her throat before she can make herself speak. "Aside from the cane, you already do that now, and you don't even limit yourself to the young."

"Nor should I. After all, ignorance knows no age limits." He's being ignorant in his own way, ironically enough, continuing to be oblivious to how important his recent words to her have been. As he begins to shift the telescope's position, he says, "I'm going to take a closer look at Saturn."

That's good. She could use a minute or two to collect herself before she has to get back on the road to finish their drive. Being with Sheldon can be both overwhelming and baffling, but it's so often in the best of ways, and she wouldn't change a thing about him even if she could.

Continuing to peer into the eyepiece, he says, "Back in Texas when I was very young, my grandfather used to take me out in the evening to stargaze and show me the constellations. I'll have to make sure I do the same someday when the time comes. Amy, did you know that Saturn has some of the most interesting moons in our solar system? It has 62 known moons, some of which may be capable of harboring life, not to mention the possible hundreds of moonlets within Saturn's rings."

The tradition of marriage is nice, and she longs to have that with him someday. For the time being, though, it's easy to console herself with a moment like this—a moment when she is looking into the infinite sky while the love of her life drones on about Saturn and casually makes her promises of forever.

* * *

—

* * *

Fun Facts: The Nevada Northern Railway mentioned on the show as their destination is a real place in Ely, NV. Caboose #22 does lack utilities/heat and my description of its interior is based on a photograph I found online. Ely had low temperatures this weekend of around 14F (-10C). Comet 45P is also real, and assuming that Google didn't lie to me, the astronomical facts that Amy and Sheldon talk about in this story are accurate and relevant to the night sky in Nevada at this time of year.


	8. Chapter 8: Post-1019

Summary: "Why?"… "Why?"… "Oh, that's why." Starting after 10.08, "The Brain Bowl Incubation," this is a series of post episode stories to fill in some of the gaps of season 10. Each chapter is a stand-alone of sorts, so you don't need to read the earlier ones to understand this.

Chapter 8, post-ep for 10.19, "The Collaboration Fluctuation": Now that Amy has begun working with Sheldon, she fears that he might become overwhelmed by the amount of time they spend together.

* * *

I.

* * *

"That list is strong," says Sheldon. "Like your mother's urge to be promiscuous with sailors."

Amy is so entranced by the way he is gazing at her that it takes several seconds for his words to register in her brain. The insult to her mother is allowed under their new set of ground rules, and she supposes that it should irritate her, but his body language is telling an entirely different story than the words he speaks. She could swear that he is flirting with her.

There's one sure way to find out, and it's not like she's going to let this latest verbal jab go without a retort anyway. "Sheldon, I understand that you may be feeling a bit intellectually inferior given your difficulties getting through today's math, but seeing as how we're done for the day, I think taking shots at my mother is a bit unnecessary, don't you?"

He pushes aside his tea and walks around the kitchen island to stand next to her. Gesturing at the corrected math on the whiteboards, he says, "We are done for now, that's true. So I suppose it would also be unnecessary for me to correct you yet again."

Of course her Sheldon can't let it go. That's fine with her; she doesn't really want him to. Amy feels the rush of heat to her cheeks as his words begin to rattle her. She gets to her feet and straightens her spine, standing as tall as she can. Even at her full height, she remains considerably shorter than her boyfriend. "Correct me how?" she dares him.

Leaning into her personal space, Sheldon braces his arms against the kitchen countertop, one on either side of her. "My math skills can only carry us so far. Those equations were never going to work out in a meaningful way until you made the appropriate contributions. It's not my fault that you were lagging behind."

"I see you're finally willing to admit it then," she says. Their mouths are so close together that she can feel his breath on her lips. "Your math and your physics need a real-world science like mine in order to have any true meaning."

"You take that back," he whispers.

His eyebrows pinch inward and his nostrils flare as she shakes her head in defiance. Riling him up is a lot of fun. There's nothing she enjoys quite so much as watching Sheldon's higher brain centers doing battle with the impulses of his more primitive side. Intellectual intrigue tends to bring forth both passion and desire in him, and adding a touch of anger only magnifies the process.

Within seconds, he gives in and kisses her, wrapping his arms around her upper back to tug her in closer. Though their teeth briefly click together and the initial contact is sloppy, as the seconds tick by she finds that what he lacks in finesse he makes up for with his enthusiasm.

Everyday kisses from Sheldon rarely involve even the slightest hint of an open mouth, but this sort of kiss is entirely different. He sucks on her lower lip and then moves on to more or less map out her entire mouth with his tongue.

Her brain is spinning with desire as well as a variety of random thoughts: She's glad that she hadn't opted to have those onion rings at lunch time… There's a minor error on the second whiteboard that they'll need to address… The kitchen countertop is beginning to dig into her back… And she is running out of breath.

She gasps when Sheldon pulls back, presumably needing to catch his own breath. With his forehead resting against hers, she can sense him struggling to calm down and regain control.

He loosens his grip on her shoulders and tips his head back. "Why do these kinds of arguments with you improve my cognitive thought processes while at the same time making me feeling like my primitive mind wants to take over?"

Still filled with desire for him, Amy's not so sure that she wants him to regain control. His eyes dart all around her face and her body in a way that she only catches him doing when they make out. "I have a theory about that. It's a bit more complicated than a simple fight or flight response, though. I could explain it to you, but since you lack a neuroscience doctorate, I'm not sure that you'd be able to understand."

His hands slide down her back to her hips, and he looks oddly relieved in spite of what she has just said. In fact, her rude words have only managed to spur him to resume their earlier kiss. Then again, he is a genius, and she's certain that he has figured out that it's no longer his anger that she's trying to arouse. When he pulls her hips towards his and presses himself against her, it becomes clear to her that she is succeeding.

As soon as he takes hold of her hands and starts to tug her towards their bedroom, they are interrupted by a noise at the front door. Imitating Sheldon's signature knock, Penny wraps on the door three times and calls out, "Sheldon and Amy?"

They pull themselves apart at the first sound, and somewhere in the midst of the second series of knocks, Sheldon scampers off to their room. Left to answer the door alone, Amy straightens out her sweater vest and takes a few calming breaths. Hopefully the warm burn she can feel blushing her cheeks will fade soon enough that she won't face any prying questions from her bestie.

—-

* * *

II.

* * *

"I don't know about you ladies, but I'm feeling all kinds of relieved," Penny says as she hands Amy the bottle of wine that she had brought over for girls' night. "The guys don't get together all that often these days, so it's nice that they're going out to play in that silly card tournament tonight. Leonard and Raj have been talking about it all week—not that I can so much as remember the name of it, mind you."

"Mystic Warlords of Ka'a," Amy says. "Sheldon taught me the basics. It's a bit juvenile if you ask me, but every man needs a vice, I suppose.

Bernadette looks impressed. "You actually learned how to play?"

Amy shrugs and begins to pour the wine into glasses. "It was a simple game to learn and it made Sheldon happy. Besides, he had spent the previous evening playing a duet with me while I practiced new songs for my harp."

"Was that what I heard last night?" Penny asks. "What the hell instrument was he playing?"

"The theremin."

Shaking her head in remembered horror, Penny says, "Someone should alert the authorities. They could totally use that thing as a new interrogation method for prisoners."

Bernadette smirks, but shifts the topic, which Penny thinks is for the best since Amy doesn't look too amused by her theremin joke. "Howard tried to convince me to give that game a try too, but Halley has been keeping me up a lot at night this past week. She's teething, so I've been a bit frazzled. Anyway, long story short: I threatened to shove his cards up his nose."

Penny grins at the mental picture of tiny Bernadette threatening someone with a deck of cards. "I haven't felt quite that strongly about it, but I am happy that the guys are going out without us for this. Besides, Leonard has about as much interest in manicures and shopping as I do in fantasy cards and video games, so it's mutual."

"I heard about how Raj was spending a lot of time with you," Bernadette says. "I hope you straightened things out with Leonard. He was so bummed out the other day that he looked like a sad little puppy."

"Yeah, we apologized for leaving him out and then let him pick the next thing for us to go out and do together. And truthfully, I don't mind at all when he leaves me behind to go do stuff with Raj. In fact, it's been great having some time to myself again whenever they leave together. Once Sheldon moved out, it was kinda hard to adjust to spending so much alone time with Leonard. As much as I love him, there is such a thing as too much togetherness, you know?"

Bernadette nods, but Amy tilts her head and asks, "What do you mean?"

"I don't know," Penny says, trying to think of how to explain. "I guess sometimes I find I need some space to feel like myself again instead of 'Mrs. Leonard Hofstadter'. The distraction of a roommate makes things easier."

"It can be stifling," Bernadette agrees. "With getting married and having a baby, I often feel like my life has been taken over by outside forces. I wonder if I'm using Stuart the same way that you use Raj. It does help a lot to have him around, not only for giving me some baby-free time but also for giving me some Howard-free time."

"Being with Sheldon has always been a challenge, but I've never really thought about the idea of 'too much togetherness'," Amy says.

Unable to stifle her incredulity, Penny squeaks, "Really? You live with that guy now, and you haven't found yourself feeling like you've had too much Sheldon? How is that possible?"

"Maybe she's developed some kind of immunity," Bernadette suggests. Turning to Amy she adds, "No offense, but whenever I've seen Sheldon interact with new people, I get the feeling that they hit their limit of him very quickly. And even with the people he knows well enough to call friends… let's just say that they can hit their limit of him too."

Penny thinks that Bernadette worded that about as kindly as a person ever could.

"I spent so many years wanting more from my relationship with Sheldon. Living with him has felt easy in comparison to that. But maybe you guys have a point. I sleep in the same bed with him every night and drive him almost everywhere. We try our best to take at least some interest in one another's hobbies, and now we're even collaborating on a professional project. It does sound like a lot, but I enjoy his company, and it has never felt like too much." She tilts her head. "Well, I guess maybe that trip to the train museum was pretty close."

"And you did hold firm about this summer's Comic Con trip," Penny points out.

Amy shakes her head no. "Actually, he convinced me to keep an open mind about that and give it a try."

"How the hell did he do that? You were so adamant about not going!"

"He told me that he planned to go dressed as Dumbledore," she mumbles. "I have a certain affinity for Harry Potter costumes. I think it could turn out to be fun."

For some reason, Amy's cheeks turn more and more pink during her admission. Penny wonders if she is embarrassed to have given in to Sheldon's pestering.

"You know, the fact that you've never even thought about how much time you two spend together makes me wonder if Leonard has ever thought about it. Like, I wonder if he ever feels like he needs space from me."

Tilting her head, Bernadette voices agreement. "Yeah, I'm not sure about Howard either."

Amy sets down her glass of wine and squints at them. "Wait a minute. Are you two suggesting that I might be the Leonard or Howard of my relationship, and that maybe it's Sheldon who is the one who feels overwhelmed by all of the time we spend together?"

Bernadette shrugs. "I wasn't suggesting that, but it is an interesting thing to ponder."

A frown forms on Amy's face to accompany her scrunched up eyebrows. While Penny wants to say something to make her feel better, she also wants to be honest. "Sweetie, I have no idea what goes on in that guy's head. He went kinda nuts when they redesigned the graphics on his cereal box last year, so I guess just about anything could be stressful for him. But don't worry about it. One thing I know about him for sure is that he loves you."

"Adding a working relationship into a romantic one sounds tough to me," says Bernadette. "You and Sheldon have your own, um, unique way of going about things, though, and what works for you guys might be different than what works for me or Penny."

"Yeah, I think it's safe to say you guys are different," Penny agrees. "And Ames, as long as you two aren't arguing or otherwise annoying each other, I'm sure you're fine."

Her friend doesn't appear to be reassured by their words. If anything, she looks even more uncertain. "We have been provoking one another, and it's gotten quite… heated. But it's been in the interest of scientific advancement."

Penny points at her. "See that right there is what we mean when we say you're different. Like, I haven't got the slightest freaking idea what you're talking about."

Nudging her half-empty wineglass with her finger, Amy sighs. "If Sheldon has been feeling overwhelmed, it might explain a few things I've been wondering about."

"Well, there's always the obvious way to settle your curiosity," Bernadette says. "Ask him about it."

"I don't know. If I were to ask him directly, I'm not sure that I could get an unbiased answer." Amy rubs her chin and the lines on her forehead grow more pronounced. Penny can barely hear her mumbling to herself when she adds, "There's only one valid way to test this sort of hypothesis."

—-

* * *

III.

* * *

When Sheldon arrives home after the guys' card tournament, he finds that Penny and Bernadette have already departed. That's fine with him. He has no desire to sit through any sort of gossip or otherwise girly drivel that Penny would no doubt be spouting off.

Amy is sitting on the couch, looking engrossed in whatever she is reading on her iPad. She's particularly attractive when she is deep in thought, and he finds himself remembering their collaborative efforts from earlier in the day. Interacting with her always makes him feel alive and happy in ways that nothing else ever does—even when they are provoking one another to anger.

She looks up when he holds his prize aloft and announces, "To the victor go the Mystical spoils of Ka-a."

"I take it you won the tournament? What are these Mystical spoils of which you speak?"

"Of course I won. The prize was an entire box of the newest expansion set for the game." He gestures at the box with a proud flourish, feeling a bit like a game show hostess.

Amy raises her eyebrows. "So you guys played in this card tournament for the privilege of trying to win more cards? Doesn't the fact that you played and won mean that you already have whatever cards you require? Seems a little redundant to me. It'd be like working to win the Nobel Prize in physics while all the while hoping to be rewarded with some elementary level textbooks."

The comparison is apt, but he's unwilling to admit it. "Some of the cards in the new set are holographic," he sputters. "And it's not like playing the harp or writing fan fiction about a tv show is all that rewarding either, so perhaps you ought not to get judgmental."

"I suppose I shouldn't," she agrees. "Congratulations on besting the competition, Sheldon. I can't say I'm surprised at your superior skills, even at something as menial as a silly card game. We both work very hard on our more serious pursuits, and there's nothing wrong with either of us choosing to goof off during our down time."

"Indeed," he says, pleased that she's come around enough to appreciate his victory and equally pleased by the challenge of their verbal exchange. "And speaking of goofing off, what do you have in mind for this weekend? We could take a break from real science and go browse that geology exhibit that Bert recommended. Or if you prefer, we could opt for the complete mindlessness that a trip to the art museum would provide."

Amy leans forward and deposits her iPad on the table. "That sounds like a good time, but I'm afraid I've already made plans to visit with two of my cousins tomorrow."

Sheldon wants no part of that. Whenever he meets one of her relatives, he can never manage to find the right thing to say. In the interests of being a good boyfriend, however, he knows he must be polite and offer to accompany her. He tries to stuff aside his distaste at the idea as he asks, "Does your little get-together require my presence?"

"No, that's not necessary. Thank you for asking, though."

Relieved, Sheldon feels himself relax as he takes a seat on the couch next to her. "Will you be back in time for laundry night or shall I run yours with mine? I suppose we could also wait and do laundry together on Sunday evening like some poor-planning, last-minute heathens."

"It might be best if you can run both of ours at the normal time. Bernadette wanted to watch a new foreign film that premiers on Sunday, and I think we'll be able to drag Penny along for some cultural enrichment and make a whole day of it."

"That seems like a losing proposition. Surely Penny will sleep through anything with subtitles," he says. Amy shrugs in acknowledgement, and he continues, "I can't say that any of your weekend plans sound particularly appealing."

While he doesn't want to be pathetic or needy like some of his friends often are, he can't help feeling a bit left out. He and Amy usually discuss what they want to do and try to come up with compromises that make them both happy. It's unusual for her to have made so many plans without talking to him, and even more so to have made plans that exclude him altogether.

"Well, I thought that you might appreciate having some extended time to yourself to do whatever you want," Amy explains. "We spend a lot of time together these days, and we've both made a lot of adjustments in our day-to-day lives to accommodate one another."

He sets his hand on her knee. "I see. You think I need to be spending more time thinking about myself."

She squints at him and wrinkles her nose. "That's not exactly what I meant. What I'm trying to say is that I've heard it's healthy for couples to spend some time apart so that neither party feels stifled or overwhelmed. So this weekend is a chance for you to play video games with the guys, build a Lego set, contemplate the mysteries of the cosmos, or even get back to working on your old plans for world domination."

Tilting his head, he considers her words. "That does sound like a fair set of worthy options."

It's not like he hasn't had plenty of practice planning his own weekends over the years. And tonight's trip out with the guys had been a pleasant reminiscence of all the times they once spent playing games together. They don't do that often enough these days. An old-fashioned video game marathon or sci-fi viewing might be fun.

As nice as it sounds, he'd still prefer to have some time with her as well. He's surprised to hear that she's concerned about how much time they spend together after she spent so many years claiming to want more from him. The thought gives him pause. In spite of his initial fears about the matter, he has felt neither stifled nor overwhelmed by their living arrangements and the general merging of their lives. But perhaps Amy has.

He has been told that he's 'difficult' more times than he can count and by more people than he cares to consider. Maybe this odd conversation is her polite way of telling him that she's the one who needs some time away.

"Very well," he says, forcing himself to smile. "I'm sure that I can manage to put together a selfish weekend for myself."

Amy smiles back. "I have every confidence that you can."

—-

* * *

IV.

* * *

"I see we have a dinner guest yet again," Penny whispers to Leonard as they pour drinks at the kitchen island.

Leonard looks over at Sheldon, who is sitting quietly in his spot. "Yeah, Amy's working late at her lab, so I took pity on him and invited him to stay for a while."

"That's like every day this week," Penny says. "You know if we keep feeding him like this, he's never going to leave."

Leonard chuckles. "He has had a bit of a stray puppy vibe going the last few days, hasn't he? I think he misses Amy."

After their card tournament last Friday, Leonard had ended up spending even more of his weekend with Sheldon and the guys, enjoying a rare vintage video game night. With Amy apparently facing some kind of deadline at work, he then ended up spending even more time with Sheldon, driving him to and from work every day this past week.

While he did enjoy the nostalgia factor at first, as the days went on, he started to notice his friend becoming more and more stressed out. And of course when Sheldon becomes stressed, so does anyone who happens to come into contact with him.

Penny walks over and takes a seat on the couch while he chooses the comfortable arm chair. "So what's been going on with you and Amy?" she asks, diving right into the potential minefield.

Sometimes his wife's gossipy nature can be annoying, but at times like these he finds himself grateful for it. He has spent the last few days curious about what might be bothering Sheldon, and being direct and nosy about it does seem like the most expedient way to find out.

"She's been acting odd recently," Sheldon answers.

Leonard is proud of himself for stifling the urge to ask him how he could tell. His wife, on the other hand, fails to resist.

"What counts as odd for you guys? Did she get a fashion makeover, take up a sport, or become obsessed with watching 'The Bachelor'?"

"I said odd, not lobotomized," Sheldon snaps back. He fidgets with the straw in his drink for a few seconds before continuing with a calmer, sadder tone, "I'm starting to think that she's trying to avoid me."

Trying to encourage him to elaborate, Leonard says, "I can't imagine why she would do that." He can hear the insincerity in his own voice, and Penny shoots him a look of amused understanding. Hopefully Sheldon won't pick up on it. He doesn't actually want to hurt the guy's feelings.

"Well, when did she start acting strangely?" Penny asks.

Leonard does the math. Most kids start to express themselves at age 2, and Amy is somewhere around 35 years old now, so the answer to Penny's question would be 'approximately 33 years ago'. He picks up his beverage and takes a long sip. If his mouth is full of soda, then he should be able to keep that answer to himself. It's unlikely that Sheldon would ever appreciate the humor.

"The evening after we began work on our joint project," Sheldon answers. "When I got home on Friday night, we discussed our plans for the weekend. Shortly thereafter, Amy began expressing concerns about how much time we were spending together. I suppose she was worried about adding a working relationship into our existing paradigm. In any case, I thought after a weekend of familial and girly nonsense that she would have gotten over it. I guess not…"

Penny's eyes have grown wider throughout his explanation, and she has started chewing on the end of her straw. Leonard recognizes those mannerisms. His wife is feeling guilty about something.

Sure enough, she sets down her cup and starts to make a confession. "Um, I think I might know a little something about this."

Folding his arms across his chest, Sheldon squints at her. "I should've known. Something this nonsensical has 'Penny' written all over it."

She sighs. "Okay, look. At girls' night on Friday, we got to talking about the fact that it's not good for a couple to have 'too much togetherness'. And that's not nonsensical at all, Sheldon."

Unsure of what she is talking about, Leonard listens carefully. Maybe he can figure out some clues as to why Penny has been acting odd herself.

She continues, "Bernadette and I were talking about what it was like adjusting to marriage and how sometimes we enjoyed having time to ourselves. Amy told us that she had never thought much about it, and when she couldn't relate to what we said was a pretty universal feeling, she started to wonder if maybe you ever felt that way."

Making a mental note to ask her about it later, Leonard finds his wife's explanation nothing but confusing. Like Amy, he had never even thought about that sort of thing.

Sheldon looks puzzled too. "If she wanted to know, why didn't she just ask me about it?"

"We suggested that, but she started muttering something about controls, variables, tainted results, and bias. If you ask me, I'd say that's the magical moment to pinpoint when she started acting super weird."

"On the contrary," Sheldon whispers. Sitting up straighter, his face begins to light up with excitement. "Penny, that magical moment is an indication that Amy is conducting an experiment on me!" He relaxes back into his spot and blows out a deep breath. "That's a relief."

For reasons unknown to mere normal people, this revelation seems to be a source of great happiness for Sheldon. Leonard is baffled, but Penny beats him to it when she asks, "That makes you feel better? Seriously?"

"Of course it does. It means everything is as it should be. Nothing's wrong after all."

Leonard pinches the bridge of his nose between his index finger and his thumb, trying to forestall the headache that always comes on when he tries to follow his friend's batcrap crazy thought processes. He reminds himself that there is no sense in trying to puzzle out Sheldon, Amy, or the relationship between them. Their version of 'normal' simply never looks like anyone else's.

—

* * *

V.

* * *

When Sheldon returns home after dinner, he finds Amy sitting on their couch, already dressed in her pajamas and looking sleepy. To accommodate her early morning work hours, she has been going to bed well before their normal bedtime. In retrospect, he realizes that this was merely one more aspect of her ruse.

As annoyed as he is at her for keeping her experiment a secret, it doesn't stop him from feeling a little thrill of happiness when she looks up from her book and smiles at him in greeting. He smiles back at her and begins to speak while he hangs his coat on the hook.

"Good evening, Amy. I just had the most illuminating conversation—with Penny, of all people."

Amy sets down her book. "Interesting. What about?"

He sits down next to her and looks her straight in the eye. "Social experimentation on unwitting human subjects."

"Oh." The smile fades from her face when she adds, "Um, I suppose she told you who was up to something like that and why?"

He nods. "Rumor has it, you've not only been listening to relationship nonsense from Penny, but you've also been acting upon it without consulting me."

"It's not nonsense," she defends. "Penny made some legitimate points about the kinds of concerns that can pop up for couples who spend a lot of time together. It hasn't been a problem for me. In fact, I've enjoyed your company. But you… well, you have a history that shows you prefer to keep a certain distance between us."

"If you're referring to our original Relationship Agreement, surely you recognize that it bears no resemblance to our current one. Many things have changed over the course of seven years."

Amy takes his hand in hers. "Living together and now working together—that's a lot of change for you to adjust too. It seemed plausible to me that you might be feeling overwhelmed by my increasing presence in your life."

He squeezes her hand. "When I'm overwhelmed, I like to make sure everyone knows about it. But if you were somehow unsure, you could've asked me. I fail to see how such an experiment was necessary."

"I only wanted to make sure that you were happy, and I figured that this sort of issue could be more of a subconscious thing," she explains, leaning her head on his shoulder. The closeness is particularly welcome after his lonely week. "I thought that asking you about it would not give me as accurate of an answer as a more objective approach would."

"Why not? Did you think I would be dishonest?"

"No, of course not. Not on purpose anyway. That's where the subconscious aspects come into play." She lifts her head up from its place on his shoulder and twists to face him. "Let me explain it in simpler terms: much like observing a particle in the double-slit experiment, adding knowledge of the system to you at the wrong time would have altered the subsequent results, making the truth all but impossible to discern."

That does clear things up for him. "I see. Though I do wish you had kept me in the loop, you know I have no qualms about human experimentation. Tell me about your methodology."

"My plan was to gauge your happiness level over the course of three weeks as I varied the time we spent together."

Now that the truth is out, Amy seems eager to tell him all about it. That's fine with him. He loves that her enthusiasm for science rivals his own.

"The past seven days was what I call 'minimal Amy'," she continues. "Next week, the control portion, would've been 'average Amy'. And then, of course, the final week would've been 'maximal Amy'. By examining your sleeping patterns, eating habits, and other behavioral markers each day, I would then try to approximate your emotional status and assign it a numerical value. Graphing the results over time, I would then be able to calculate approximately what amount of time spent with me maximizes your personal contentment."

"Intriguing," he says. "There are some subjectivity issues and other flaws here and there, as is always the case in the social sciences, but seeing as how I am a big fan of my own happiness, I approve of the general idea." Frowning, he adds, "Drat. Now I wish I hadn't gone and interfered. There would've been graphs."

She extends her index finger away from where she is holding his hand and gently pokes his knee. "I'm glad you're not mad at me."

"Mad at you for doing science? That would be absurd. And I make such a fascinating test subject. I can't blame you for being lured in by the tempting, bright flame of greatness that is myself."

"A lack of humility really starts to dim the brightness of that flame, Sheldon."

He snaps his mouth shut and nods, refraining from any further talk about himself.

"As I was saying," Amy continues, "I'm glad you're not angry, and I want you to know that I've felt terrible about keeping this from you, regardless of my good intentions."

"I was a little hurt that you didn't consult me, but after your explanation, I feel more flattered than anything else. In fact, perhaps we should consider resuming the experiment. The results will be less reliable now that I know I'm being measured, but you know how I feel about leaving something unfinished."

Closure is one reason that he would like to continue. A different, unspoken reason is that he is curious about what a week of 'maximal Amy' might entail. She took coitus off the table when they first moved in together, and other than a brief, pre-planned dalliance for her birthday, they have yet to deviate from her restriction on that particular act of intimacy. He can't help but wonder if 'maximal Amy' would put that topic back on the table.

She squints at him. Perceptive as ever, she says, "We know what our time together is normally like, and now that the week is over, we know what the results are when we spend very little time together. So perhaps you are curious about that third week, hmm?"

It's hard not to squirm under her scrutiny. He forces himself to sit still and attempt a dignified response. "I am pleased with our status quo, and I don't need to ask about your findings to know that 'minimal Amy' was not an improvement. Additionally, in the interests of science, I am willing to admit that the final part of your experiment does intrigue me."

Sheldon is no expert at the physical aspects of their relationship. But over the past few months he has become increasingly aware that intellectual challenges tend to incite passion in him, with anger only feeding the fire. And with Amy, those passions tend to easily morph into a desire for physical intimacy. Being the brilliant neurobiologist that she is, he feels certain that she has deduced this about him as well. He becomes even more certain of it when he hears her response.

"'Maximal Amy' would be demanding," she says, slowly tracing his kneecap with the tip of her finger. "I'm not sure you could handle that, even for the benefit of science." She looks him up and down while biting her lip, an expression that he has seen before on a number of memorable occasions.

He's sure that she's doing it on purpose, provoking him and questioning his competency in this manner. But even having full knowledge of what she's doing doesn't stop him from falling for it. "Are you questioning my scientific rigor?"

Leaning in close to him, she says, "Yes, I am. You know how I enjoy challenging your hypotheses and, by extension, your intellectual and scientific capabilities. A more intense version of me in your life might prove to be too much for you, even for a short time."

Swallowing hard, he tries to keep his eyes focused on her face and not her body. He fails. "I think I can manage," he says, his words aimed at her lips and chest.

"It's not just your mind, though." Amy runs her hand up his thigh and across his chest. When she reaches his cheek, she rubs her thumb across it's surface, no doubt noting the flush that he can feel heating his skin. "I tend to make bodily demands of you as well. I'm not sure if you'd be up to dealing with that."

She's wrong, of course, because he's up for that right now, and in more ways than one. Much to his embarrassment, his voice comes out as a squeak. "Demands?"

She tilts his chin so that he is once again looking at her eyes, and he sees her start to smirk. "You know: cuddling, snuggling, hugs…"

That is not the answer he was anticipating. He feels another surge of strong, confusing emotions coursing through him in response to her continued teasing. Before he has a chance to think of a retort, however, she closes the tiny distance between them and whispers, "And kissing."

Her kiss is a gentle touch of lips, but Sheldon reciprocates by pressing back with a more forceful kiss. Resisting the urge to get too carried away, he pulls back, wanting to make her aware that he knows what she's up to. "You're doing this on purpose."

The teasing smile on her face grows wider. "You asked for it."

There's no denying that. Still unsure of himself in an intimate situation like this, he asks, "What should we do now?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

Amy pulls away from him and straightens her wrinkled skirt. She then reaches over his body and snags something off the end table. When she plops it into his hand, he realizes that it's a whiteboard marker.

"As you said earlier, this is all in the interests of science," she explains. "Given that, perhaps we should work on our collaboration tonight. After all, we know you do your best work when I'm in the midst of challenging your professional talents."

Sheldon has had enough. He leans towards her again, practically touching his nose to hers, and confesses, "It's possible that my interest in finishing your experiment is not wholly for the benefit of science."

After slapping the marker back onto the end table, he shifts both of his hands to her hips. Yanking her towards him and leaning his full weight into her, he tips them both over onto the tiny couch, pinning her beneath his body. It feels like a fumbling and graceless motion even to him, but he's far too enthralled by the woman he loves to feel self-conscious about it.

This time it's Amy who voices an embarrassing sounding squeak, and it's his turn to smirk. When they begin to exchange kisses again, he enjoys the feeling of her whole body pressed up against his. It gets even better when he begins to feel the enthusiastic pull of her small hands on his back, encouraging him to get closer.

Despite the intensity of the moment, his mind briefly wanders back to her experiment. As Amy begins to groan sounds of pleasure into his open mouth, he becomes more certain than ever that he won't mind a week of 'maximal Amy' one bit.

—-

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Note: Thanks for reading!


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